Stranger Than I Dreamt It
by Queen Madisyn of Narnia
Summary: Christine Daae works at her aunt's cafe, where she meets a man named Erik Destler, and is caught up in a series of strange meetings with him. Is he who she thinks he is, or is there more than what meets the eye? E/C. Rated T to be safe.
1. Theatrical Men

At five fifteen that Monday morning, I was rudely awoken by my dog, Annie, a happy-go-lucky beagle, from my abnormally peaceful slumber. Annie was a great dog, the daughter of my dad's beagle, Rita, but on days like this, Annie was just plain annoying.

I climbed out of bed, grabbed Annie's food dish, filled it with her favorite kibble, and set it at her feet. Annie barked happily, daintily sticking her mouth in the dish.

What a princess.

I, on the other hand, went straight to the bathroom. After taking a five minute shower, combing my impossibly curly hair, putting on a bit of makeup, and donning my work uniform, I walked out the door and downstairs to the Giry Breakfast Co.

My name is Christine Daae. I am eighteen years old, and I am an orphan. When I was merely eight years old, my dad died of a heart attack. Since then, I'd lived with my Aunt Marie, and her daughter, my best friend, Meg. The Giry's weren't my blood relatives, but more like adopted family. Our families had known us for ages, which started with my mom, who had been Aunt Marie's best friend.

I say had been, because my mom is dead, just like my dad, except she died soon after I was born, so I never knew her, and it doesn't hurt as much to think about her as it does to think about my dad. Yet he would talk about her all the time, and kept pictures of her everywhere, which helped me get to know who she was and what she was like. But I never really knew her.

The Giry's, my new family, run a small café in the heart of Paris, France. Giry Breakfast Co., it's been called for years. Meg and I had been working here after school, on weekends, and during breaks since we were fourteen. This particular Monday was during summer break, which meant work half the day. The other half I could do what I wished, as long as I returned for dinner at five.

After work most days, I'd walk around the city with Meg, rarely I'd do some shopping, and I'd always go to my room upstairs and sing. I loved to sing, and I loved music in general. My dad had taught me to love music; he had been a violinist himself. Ever since his death, music had been all the more important to me.

"Good morning, Christy," Meg said, sending me back from my reverie about my dad and music. 'Christy' was one of Meg's annoying nicknames, yet I always had a comeback in store.

"Morning, Meggie," I said, shoving her playfully. Meg laughed, causing me to join her in laughter.

"I see you two are awake," Aunt Marie said. "Go on, I think we have a few customers."

I sighed dramatically, causing Meg and I to burst into more laughter. Aunt Marie rolled her eyes, cracking a smile, and went back into the kitchen to fix our breakfasts.

"So what are you going to be up to today?" Meg asked, picking up a notepad and pen. I did the same.

"Oh, I don't know," I said. "Maybe a little shopping?"

Meg grinned. She absolutely loved shopping. "We have a date, Miss Daae."

I smiled, heading for the first table with people sitting at it I saw. After taking their orders, I went into the kitchen and taped the order to the window. The chef, a man named Joseph Buqet, whom we called simply Jo, grinned at me.

"Mornin', Miss Daae," he said. I sighed. Jo was a ladies man, and was entirely convinced that every woman in the world was in love with him.

"Good morning, Jo," I said, giving him a slight smile. That's all he ever got out of me.

I walked behind the counter, waiting for some new customers to appear.

My wish was heard, for a man walked into the café minutes later. He was high class, that I could tell from his clothing. But the odd thing about him was the predominant white mask on his face. And not even an entire mask, only half, on the right side of his face, as if it had been cut in half.

Jo whistled lowly. "Well I'll be. Erik Destler, in the flesh," he said.

"Who's Erik Destler?" I asked, still eyeing the man curiously.

"You're looking at him," Jo said. "Never seen a stranger lookin' man. He's a musician, but a strange one, because of them there mask. Writes darn good music, though."

I nodded, walking over to Mr. Destler to take his order.

"Hello, my name is Christine, how can I help you?" I asked.

Mr. Destler looked up from the menu, his eyes going the slightest bit wider. "What do you suggest?"

I bit my lip nervously. "Well… the crepes are pretty good."

Mr. Destler back at the menu, then up at me, staring at me curiously for a second. He glanced back at the menu, and said, "I'll have the les oeufs et les crêpes," he said.

Writing down his order, I nodded. "I'll be right back with your order."

Walking away, I could feel his stare burning into the back of my head. I began to wobble nervously, wondering why he was staring at me.

Jo noticed that as well. Taking the order from me, he said, "I don't like the looks of that guy."

"He's scaring me a bit, too," I admitted, remembering how he stared at me when I took his order.

Jo began cooking the man's order, cracking two eggs into a pan. "Wonder why he wears a mask."

I shrugged. "Maybe he's a very theatrical person."

Jo laughed. "Theatrical, eh? I can be theatrical." Jo then began impersonating an opera singer, making strained and rather hilarious faces. I laughed, clapping.

"Bravo," I said. Jo grinned, bowing, which caused me to laugh even more.

"Or maybe he's got a really ugly birthmark on his face," Jo suggested. He snapped his fingers suddenly. "I know! He doesn't got a face at all!"

I shook my head. "No face at all? Interesting theory, Jo."

"Well, here's No Face's order." Jo slid the eggs onto a plate, a small stack of crepes following. I took a deep breath, picked up the plate, and walked over to Mr. Destler's table.

"Here you are, sir," I said, setting the plate down in front of him. He looked up at me, staring at me for another seemingly endless moment. "Thank you," he said.

"N-no problem," I stuttered, walking away. The entire time he was there, as I served other customers and talked to Jo, he was staring at me. Like he was curious, or interested by me.

Finally he finished his breakfast, to my relief. I picked up his plate, and as I walked away, I began to wobble. Before I could fall and break the dish, Mr. Destler stood up and caught me around the waist.

I looked up at him, stunned. "T-thank you," I said.

He nodded. "N-no problem."

Wait- he _stuttered_?

My thoughts as jumbled as ever, I walked away. Mr. Destler stood where he was for a moment, finally sitting back down to wait for the check. I handed the plate back to Jo, who took it to the sink. I told him about the near broken plate, and how Mr. Destler stuttered when he spoke to me.

"Mhm. Sounds like he's never been that close to such a beau-ti-ful girl before," Jo said with a playful smirk. I rolled my eyes. I may have been pretty, but I wasn't _beautiful_.

"Maybe someone else should give him his check," I said with the hope that Jo would take my place.

Jo put his hand on my shoulder with joking affection. "Sorry, love, but that's your job."

I sighed, taking the receipt to Mr. Destler. In a matter of seconds he was handing me a wad of cash. The total was only twenty four francs, yet he'd given me fifty.

"Keep the change," he answered, seeing my curious look.

I was stunned once more. "Thank you," I managed.

"It's nothing," he said. He got up, walked toward the door, and turned around again.

"If you're here again tomorrow, I think I'll come again."

With that, Mr. Destler left.

_What_?

As confused as ever, I took the twenty four francs to the cash register, keeping the remaining twenty six. An hour later my shift was over, so I headed to my room to think.

That man was so strange! First the mask, then he stared at me for who knows how long, he caught me _around the waist_ when I almost fell over, and the strange farewell about coming back the next day if I was there.

Entering my bedroom, I fell to the bed, letting my suspicions consume me. What if he was a serial killer that preyed on teenage girls? Or even a rapist… I mentally cringed at the thought. He could be for all I knew about him.

Before another suspicion could enter my mind, I felt something pressing against my back. I rolled over, and what did I find but a letter. I opened it hesitantly, gasping when I read it. I hadn't ever seen his handwriting before, yet somehow I knew that it was from him. Who else would write this?

_Christine,_

_I will see you sooner than you think, ma cher._


	2. Explainations

Before I knew it, Meg and I were walking around downtown Paris, purses in hand. We'd changed out of our work clothes and set out for Meg's favorite stores, all of which were relatively expensive, so we didn't do much shopping; more like _looking_.

Mr. Destler's letter was still stuck in my head, and I was getting even more frightened with each step. There was no doubt in my mind that he was a stalker. Or maybe he just meant that he'd see me tomorrow… I had no idea.

Meg and I walked into a shop called Toutes les Fille's Boutique. Immediately Meg pointed out all her favorites, starting with an extravagant lavender gown, and pointing down the rest of the aisle at nearly every dress.

I gazed longingly at the door, not in a shopping mood. Glancing out the door, I saw a familiar figure _staring at me _from across the street…

I froze. Could it be?

But it was. It was _him_.

How did he find me? Why did he _want _to find me?

I panicked, staying completely still. His emotionless gaze met my fearful one. My eyes widened as I turned away.

"Christy?" Meg asked. "You alright?"

I didn't answer.

"Christine?" she asked again. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I managed. "Hey, I'm going to go get a coffee from that place down the street. I'll catch up with you later, ok?"

Meg gave me a worried look. "Alright… I'll tell you if I find anything cute in your size."

I managed a smile. "Thanks." Without a moment's hesitation, I was walking out the door, practically running to the coffee shop down the street.

Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at where Mr. Destler once stood. But he wasn't there.

"Thank you," I said, picking up my iced coffee from the counter. I selected a few packets of creamer and sugar from the counter as well, and sat at a table near a particularly large window. From there, I could keep an eye out for Mr. Destler.

I stirred my coffee nervously, taking an anxious sip. I recoiled. Too bitter. I added another packet of sugar, stirring again, and took another sip.

My eyes scanned the street for any signs of him. Sadly, I found none.

"Mind if I sit here, mademoiselle?" a familiar voice said. My eyes went wide as I looked up at Mr. Destler.

"Go ahead," I managed. He nodded, sitting across from me. I stared out the window for a moment, feeling like a bug under a microscope thanks to his uncomfortable gaze. I finally looked him in the eye, suspicious.

"You were following me," I accused.

"I was not," he said. "I met you here by chance."

"Chance, huh?" I said disbelievingly. "So you saw me from outside that store, and just happened to go to the same coffee shop as I did? Not to mention the fact you didn't get any coffee?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you," he said, sounding somewhat bitter.

"That note," I said. "Explain that, at least."

Mr. Destler shook his head. I sighed.

"You're not a… a serial killer or anything, are you?" I asked, feeling utterly stupid. Like he'd tell me if he was.

He laughed, shaking his head. "Sorry, but no."

"Then tell me why you're following me."

"I told you, I met you here by chance."

"_Sure_."

"You don't believe me," he said. I bit back calling him 'Captain Obvious', which wouldn't have been really smart at the moment.

"I have good reason," I said. "You're not telling me anything."

"Well neither are you," he said. I raised an eyebrow. "All I know is your name."

"That makes two of us," I muttered. "I'm Christine, I live with my aunt and cousin, who own the Giry Breakfast Co., my mom died when I was born and my dad died when I was seven." I bit my trembling lip to keep from crying over my dad. It had been eleven years and his death still stung. "I love to sing, and I want to make it to the Paris Opera House someday," I finally finished. "Happy?"

"No," he said. I gave him a questioning look. "I'm sorry about your parents."

"It's alright," I mumbled. "I never knew my mom, so it's the loss of my dad that really hurts."

He nodded, as if he knew exactly how I felt, yet didn't say anything. Wanting to move past sad subjects, I asked him to explain.

"My name is Erik, I live by myself down the block, I never knew my father, but I knew my mother and haven't seen her since I was little. I write music. Happy?"

"No," I said. "Explain why you're stalking me and the note that nearly gave me a heart attack."

Mr. Destler shook his head. "I'm sorry, mademoiselle, but I can't tell you."

"Why not?" I demanded. "This involves me, you know, Mr. Destler."

"Call me Erik," he said. "And I can't tell you. Yet."

"When will you tell me what's going on?"

"When I find out myself."

"That made absolutely no sense, you know."

Erik sighed. "Yes, I know. You'll understand in time, I promise."

"Why is it that I don't believe you?" I asked sarcastically.

Erik smirked. "It is up to you whether you trust me or not."

With a discontented and confused sigh, I stood up, walking toward the door. I threw my half empty coffee into the trash can, and walked into the heat of the city. Erik, of course, being the stalker I accused him of being, followed. I ignored him.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

My eyes went wide with disbelief. I turned and faced him angrily "Gee, I don't know! Maybe it's because you're _following me around_, maybe it's because you're saying things that make _no sense_, maybe it's because you sent me a _really creepy _note, and maybe it's because _you're not explaining any of this_!"

Erik took my rant calmly, a smirk spreading across his features.

I frowned. "Don't smirk at me. This isn't funny."

"No, it isn't." Erik sighed. "I told you, I'll tell you what's going on when I find out for myself. Just trust me."

I contemplated his words for a second. The note, following me around, wanting to see me again… I gasped.

"You… ugh! This isn't how you get someone to like you!"

"I never said I liked you."

"Well you must, if you're going to all the trouble to stalk me like this, wanting to see me again, sending me notes!" I smacked my forehead, feeling like an idiot.

Erik checked his watch. "I must go. Until tomorrow, ma cher."

With that, Erik walked away casually, leaving me dumbfounded.

_What is with this guy_?


	3. Hints

After my strange encounter at the coffee shop with Erik, I went straight home, up to my bedroom, and onto the bed. I was utterly confused, and didn't know what to do.

Annie, on the other hand, had no such problem. The beagle jumped on me like she had that morning, and settled for curling up next to me, her wide brown eyes staring at me. I smiled- Annie's happy-go-lucky nature was rubbing off on me.

But it didn't erase the conflict at hand. What did Erik have planned? Why would he be stalking an eighteen year old girl, other than to rape her, kill her, or just tell her that he loved her. According to Erik, the last option was hardly plausible, but I had yet to believe a word the man said.

The door opened suddenly, causing me to jump slightly. Jo smirked, shutting the door behind him.

"No Face's giving you a hard time, eh?" he asked.

I nodded. "He was, well he denied it, but it was as if he was following me around! And read this." I handed him the note, which caused his eyes to go wide in shock.

"He sent this?" he asked.

"Yes, but he wouldn't explain why." I covered my face with a pillow. My voice muffled, I said, "He wouldn't explain anything!"

Jo laughed, picking up the pillow and tossing it to the other side of the bed. "He's a creeper, that one."

I agreed. Fervently.

"Well, I wish I could help, but Mrs. Giry's given me garbage duty." With a final salute, Jo left me to my thoughts.

My brain was on overload. I needed fresh air. I walked to the other side of the room and opened the window to the fire escape. I climbed out and walked to the far edge, leaning against the rail.

"Why do things have to be so complicated?" I muttered.

"You still don't trust me."

I covered my mouth with my hand to keep from screaming as I turned around to face Erik.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded as I dropped my hand from my mouth.

Erik chuckled, leaning against the rail opposite of where I stood. "Talking to you, I do believe."

I frowned. "Let me elaborate; what are you doing outside _my window_?"

"Same answer."

I clenched my fist, frustrated. "Why?"

"Beg pardon?"

"Why bother talking to me? I'm just some girl you met this morning."

Erik smiled mysteriously, causing me to shudder. "You… interest me. And today isn't the first time I've seen you."

"How is that possible? I only met you today."

"Key words," he said, "_you _met _me _today."

My jaw dropped, which I quickly closed. "Where exactly have you seen me?"

Erik didn't answer.

I sighed. "You're never going to tell me _anything_, are you!"

"Someday."

I laughed stiffly. "In my dreams. Mr. Secrets here doesn't give me any information whatsoever, not even the slightest hints!"

"Believe it or not, I've given you several hints."

"You lost me, Destler."

"Call me Erik," he said. "And yes, I'm constantly giving you hints, a chance to figure me out, and you act like you have no idea what I'm talking about."

"That's _because _I have no idea what you're talking about," I said. "What _hints _could you have possibly given me?"

"One," Erik said. "The mask. Two, music. Three, you interest me. Four, you like music. Five, you say I'm following you."

"I don't get it."

"You'll have to," he said. "Because I'm not telling you anything more, not until you're _sure _you don't understand."

I groaned. "Seriously?" He nodded, smirking. "Then find another girl to stalk, because I'm done here." I walked back to my window, climbed through, and sat on the bed, petting Annie, who had been simply staring at us the entire time, her head darting back and forth like she was watching a tennis match.

Erik leaned against the windowsill, watching me intently, which gave me time to really take in his appearance. Erik had relatively dark hair, either black or dark brown, which was slicked back. He had piercing green eyes, which were currently staring at me, and skin that was pale, yet slightly tan. His lips were curled into a small smirk, adding to the mysterious aura the mask on the right side of his face gave off. He wore a dark blue button down shirt and jeans, but the way he wore them signified him as a higher class man.

I sighed. "You're not leaving anytime soon, are you?"

His smirk grew. "I'm not planning on it."

Annie barked happily, jumping to the windowsill to greet Erik.

"Annie!" I reprimanded, picking her up from the windowsill. "Forgive my dog, she doesn't know what the word 'manners' means."

Erik smiled. "She's adorable." I let Annie back onto the floor, and she jumped back onto the sill, her tail wagging madly, her tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth. Finally, she jumped off, and ran to the other side of the room to lay on her bed. Erik smiled at me. "Just like you."

I was a bit surprised by the compliment. "Well, it's good to know that a man I barely know thinks I'm adorable."

Erik laughed. Giving him a small smile, I sat on the windowsill opposite from where he stood.

"So if you're not going to leave…" I let my sentence hang in the air.

Erik sat on the other side of the windowsill. He noticed a stray curl in the masses of my hair that took forever to tame, and delicately pushed it behind my ear, causing me to blush slightly. What was _wrong _with me? Stupid hormones…

A knock at the door caused me to jump. "Christine? Time for dinner!" It was Meg.

I bit back thanking her from saving me from my stalker. "I have to go," I said.

"Until next time, ma cher," Erik said. He took my hand, kissed it lightly, and began to walk away.

"Erik?" I asked.

"Yes?"

"You're coming back, aren't you." It wasn't a question, merely a statement. A fact.

Erik smiled mysteriously, his teeth shining in contrast with the dimly lit city. "How did you know?"


	4. Firsts

Erik came back that night, of course. What did you expect? He came back several nights after that as well, and came to the café every morning.

Dinner one night was rotisserie chicken, mashed potatoes, and salad. Aunt Marie, Meg, Jo, and I sat around the table in the far back of the restaurant. The front half served as the café, the rest was like a house. After saying grace, the four of us dug in.

"So what did you girls do today?" Aunt Marie asked.

Jo and I exchanged a look. It wasn't as if I was going to tell her that one of our customers was stalking me.

"Not much," Meg answered. "Christine and I went to the Louvre."

I almost sighed with relief. Now I didn't have to explain my day with a masked man to Aunt Marie.

I ate supper quickly, anxious to see if Erik came again. I wouldn't be surprised at all if he did.

"Can I go to bed early tonight?" I asked. "I'm more tired tonight than usual."

"Go ahead," Aunt Marie said. Jo gave me an anxious look as I headed upstairs to my room. He'd been getting even more suspicious of Erik over the days.

I shut the door of my bedroom behind me. Annie trotted up to me, barked anxiously, and sprinted to the window, where she curled up into a ball. My heart stopped beating momentarily.

So he came after all.

Instead of walking to the window, I walked into the bathroom. I picked up a pair of pajamas, a light green t-shirt and matching green shorts. After dressing in my pajamas, I brushed my teeth, combed my hair, and walked back into the bedroom. Taking a deep breath, I opened the window.

The chilly night air met my exposed arms, causing me to shiver. I walked over to my armchair, where my favorite blue sweater jacket lay, and pulled it on. I walked back over to the window, stuck my head outside, and said, "Erik?"

"Yes?" I searched the fire escape for him, finally finding him near the staircase.

I sighed with relief. "You came back."

"Are you glad?"

I shrugged. "It kind of creeps me out that you bothered to come in the first place, but I guess you could say that."

Erik smiled, his teeth shining eerily in the moonlight. He walked up to the window, sitting on the sill like he had before. I sat next to him.

"This is really weird," I said. "I'm talking to a guy I barely know on the fire escape outside my window, after he's stalked me for who knows how long."

Erik laughed. I gazed at the moon, which was seated above the Eiffel Tower, far in the distance. I could feel Erik's gaze on my face as I leaned against the wall.

Something was troubling me in this moment of supposed peace, for I had no idea what was going on in Erik's head. The mask… I'd been curious as to what was underneath it since I first met him. My hand twitched towards the mask, wanting to take it off, but not wanting to hurt Erik's feelings.

"Why do you wear a mask?" I had the nerve to ask him.

Erik tensed, saying merely, "Because I have good reason to."

"Do you… I mean, can I… do you mind if…" My usually 'brilliant' vocabulary had left me.

"Can I see? The rest of your face, I mean."

Before I could say anything more, Erik was on the other side of the fire escape, his green eyes wide, his knuckles white from gripping the rails with much strength.

"I'm… sorry…" I managed, surprised and frightened by his actions.

Erik relaxed, his expression remorseful. "Forgive me… I had no reason to act in such a way."

"Yes, you did… for all you knew, I was about to take your mask off."

He sighed. "That's no excuse. In any event, I cannot let you take off my mask, for my face would surely ruin any sort of friendship we've created."

Friendship… the term surprised me. I'd never thought about us that way before. But I guess he was right… we had _something _going. But the way he said it made it seem like he was hoping our simple friendship would turn into something more. I shuddered involuntarily.

"I don't judge by looks, Erik," I said. "I don't care if there is no face underneath that mask. You're still Erik, you're still my friend."

Erik shook his head. "I'm not taking it off. Not in front of you."

I got the hint. "Then I will."

Erik tensed. I placed my shaking hand on his unmasked cheek, moving it to the masked side. I curled my fingers around it, preparing to take it off, when Erik's hand caught my wrist.

"No," he pleaded. I could see the tears in his eyes. Fighting back tears of my own, I took off the mask. Before I had any hopes of seeing his face, his hand was covering it.

I groaned. "Really, Erik? It can't be as bad as you make it out to be."

He said nothing, merely shaking his head. He stood up, walking to the rails of the fire escape. I climbed out of the window and followed.

"Please?" I asked, looking him straight in the eye. I could see his pained and conflicted expression. Gently, I took his hand in mine, and moved his hand from his face. My other hand held his other hand, which hung limply at his side.

It really wasn't that bad. The skin on the right side was red and puffy, in gnarled clumps; he had no eyebrow, either. But it could've been worse.

I let go of his hand, moving my hand to rest on his mangled cheek. My fingers traced the deformations softly.

"It's not even that bad," I said. "I think you were exaggerating."

Erik smiled at my touch, enjoying the feel of my hand on his face. Either I was right about him wanting us to be something more, or he'd just been wearing that mask for far too long.

I took his hand in mine, walking with him back to the window. I sat down on the sill, and Erik soon followed.

Erik's expression made it look like he had something to say, and I bet he had a load to talk about. My fears of him actually loving me had been proven true. Now what was I supposed to do? I didn't love him. I only cared about him because he was a close friend, and nothing more.

"One less obstacle to worry about," Erik muttered to himself. He looked me in the eye with an expression I couldn't comprehend.

"What is it?" I asked.

"There's something I've been wanting to try…" He trailed off, unsure of something I didn't know of; obviously, if I knew why he was so unsure, I would tell you.

"And that is…?" I was growing curious, and a bit scared of what he wanted to try. There were so many things he could do with me… I mentally cringed at the thought.

Erik stared at me for a moment. Finally, he rested his hand on my cheek. He didn't move for another seemingly endless moment, and finally he was leaning closer to me, our faces were now centimeters apart. My heart was beating like a racehorse, my mind unable to comprehend what was going on. Before I knew it, Erik was kissing me.

I admit, I was freaking out. This was all so sudden- I didn't know what to think.

At first my lips didn't respond, but then I realized that this was my first kiss. Ever. I couldn't believe it- my first kiss was with a guy who had been stalking me for who knows how long.

When I realized that this was my first kiss, I moved my lips against his. I could tell he was surprised, because he paused as well, but once he comprehended my reaction, he was kissing me back.

I must say that I had no kissing experience whatsoever, so I didn't know exactly what to do. I guess you could say that I followed my instincts, and at first, I had no idea what my instincts were thinking. His tongue brushed against my lips, and a low moan escaped my throat. My lips parted, and his tongue entered my mouth. I know, it sounds gross, but once you've done it, you don't think so anymore.

My tongue mingled with his, and I must admit that I enjoyed it. It was weird, though- I still barely knew this guy. Then again, once I thought about it, I knew just enough about him to get by. So I let the kiss continue.

Erik withdrew his tongue from my mouth, simply kissing me, which was fine with me. He finally pulled away, breathing heavily, as was I.

"That was…" I began. "That was… wow."

Erik smiled. "I've always wanted to do that. Especially since I met you."

All these comments about me were catching me off guard. Just random little comments about me, whether he was saying he wanted to see me again, or even wanting to kiss me.

"I've never kissed anyone before," I admitted, my face heating up.

"Neither have I," he said.

I smiled. Only then did I realize that we were still sitting extremely close together. Still, I didn't move.

"You certainly seem like an expert," I said.

"Where I live, there's no such thing as privacy. So I know a few things."

I didn't bother asking about where he lived. There was no doubt in my mind that he wouldn't tell me.

"It's late," Erik said. I didn't bother asking how he knew that, either. "You should get some rest."

"What time is it?" I asked, suppressing a yawn.

Erik smirked. "Ten past midnight."

My eyes went wide. "How is it that late?"

"Time flies when you're enjoying yourself."

"Yes, but _that fast_?"

Erik laughed. "Apparently."

I climbed back through the window, sitting on the bed. Erik leaned on the windowsill, still outside.

"You can come in, you know," I said.

Erik smiled, climbing into my room, sitting beside me. "I never thought I'd see the day when you told me that."

"Special permission," I said. "I know you well enough now that I trust you."

Erik laughed. I lay down, looking up at Erik. With a small smile, he lay down next to me. I moved closer to him, resting my head on his chest. He sighed contentedly, and began stroking my hair. I looked up at him.

"You love me, don't you?" I asked.

"Did you ever doubt?" he asked in return. I shook my head. Growing sleepy, I closed my eyes, curling up next to him.

"I think… I think I love you, too…"

The last thing I heard was the rustling of the sheets as he covered me with them. I sighed happily, smiling. With that last smile, I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.


	5. Childhood Friends

I woke up the next morning by myself. Apparently Erik had left after I'd fallen asleep. I got up reluctantly, heading to the bathroom, where I changed into my work clothes, brushed my hair, then walked into the bedroom again. I prepared Annie's breakfast, finally making my way down to the café.

"Mornin', Miss Daae," Jo greeted.

I smiled. "Morning, Jo."

I could tell that after all these nights of going to bed earlier than usual had gotten Jo suspicious. Especially when Erik had taken to coming to the café for breakfast nearly every day.

This particular Wednesday, a familiar face, whom I hadn't seen in years, walked into the café.

"Isn't that…" Meg trailed off.

"Raoul?" I asked myself. Meg nodded.

"He is kind of cute," Meg said, giggling.

I bit back saying that I already had a sort of boyfriend. I guess I could call Erik that. I remembered the night before, him kissing me, my first kiss…

Meg snapped, waking me from my dream like reverie.

"Sorry," I said, picking up a pad of paper and a pen. Hurriedly I went up to Raoul's table.

"Hello, my name is Christine, how can I help you?"

Raoul didn't answer for a moment, staring at me.

"Um…" I didn't know what to say. One man staring at me all the time was enough, but two?

"Oh, sorry!" he said, realizing he had been staring. "Sorry, you just remind me of someone I knew as a kid."

"Mhm," I said. I fought back a giggle, biting my lip.

Raoul got the hint. "Christine Daae, where is your scarf?"

I faked acting surprised. "Excuse me?"

"You can't have lost it, after all the trouble I took. I was just ten and soaked to the skin-"

I interrupted him, pretending to just now remember. "Because you had run into the sea to fetch my scarf?"

Raoul smiled. "Exactly."

"Raoul, it is you!"

Raoul stood up, hugging me. I hadn't seen Raoul for years, and who would think that after all these years, he'd happen to come to the café _I _worked at?

After taking Raoul's order, I walked back to the kitchen and handed Jo the order. But Jo wasn't paying attention to me. I followed his anxious gaze to where Erik sat, glaring at Raoul out of the corner of his eye.

"Someone's jealous of your little friend," Jo said with a smirk. I frowned, picking up my paper and pen, and walking over to Erik's table.

I smiled at him. "What can I get you today?"

Erik didn't answer.

I sighed. "He's just a childhood friend I haven't seen for years, nothing else."

Erik didn't show it, but I could tell he was relieved.

I took Erik's order to Jo. Glancing at Raoul's table, I saw Meg flirting with him. I smiled. One less obstacle to worry about.

After about five minutes of talking to Jo about Erik's mask, arguing that it was just to add a mysterious aura, when Jo thought he had no face on that side, Erik's order was ready. I set his plate in front of him, smiling.

"Thank you, ma cher," he said.

I walked back to the kitchen, where Meg spotted me and giggled.

"What is it?" I asked.

Meg smiled. "The guy with the mask was flirting with you," she said.

I shrugged. "And?"

Meg was shocked. "Um… Christine? What about Raoul?"

"Don't tell me you weren't flirting with him. I saw you."

Meg blushed. "And the guy with the mask?"

"His name is Erik," I said, immediately regretting it.

"How do you know?" she asked.

"I- um, it came up in conversation."

Meg sighed. "You're not telling me something."

"That's not true."

"Chris-_tine_…"

I laughed. "Meg, I'll tell you what's going on when I find out myself."

* * *

"That's how you met him?" Erik asked. I nodded, laughing. Erik and I were on the fire escape again, where I was telling him how I met Raoul.

"Very… interesting," he said.

"Very," I agreed.

I smiled up at him, and he smiled back. My hand stroked his unmasked cheek gently, then decided to take off his mask. Erik sighed.

"I prefer to see you without a mask," I said.

I also wanted him to kiss me again, but I said nothing. I could tell he wanted the same; he was staring at my mouth, which was sort of creepy.

"Go ahead," I said meaningfully.

Apparently he understood, because in a matter of seconds his lips were on mine again, moving slowly, and seemingly with much experience. Although he claimed to have never kissed any other girl besides me, I believed otherwise. How could he not have kissed anyone else, when he was so… _amazing_?

One of my hands rested on his deformed cheek, the other tangled in his dark hair. Erik pulled me closer to him, wrapping his arms innocently around my waist. Although his hands didn't stray, the flame within me seemed to grow into a sort of bonfire.

His tongue brushed against my lips, causing me to groan. I parted my lips slightly, and once more was his tongue mingling with mine. Our bodies were touching, causing the bonfire's flames to grow. Erik backed me against the wall next to the window, and I could sense the heated passion in his kiss.

I was enjoying the kiss far more than I should've. I wanted more, though, but what? I'd never been in this situation before, I didn't know what I was doing, what I was feeling, what I was _wanting_. All I knew was that I wanted him to keep on kissing me, I wanted this feeling of passion to last. It was… well, it was wonderful.

Much sooner that I would've liked did Erik pull away. Both of us were panting like there was no air in the atmosphere.

I leaned against the rail of the fire escape. "That was… even better than the first."

Erik nodded, agreeing. "Much better."

I smiled, the passion of the kiss seeming to radiate between us, leaving both of us unsatisfied. I wanted more, but what exactly did _more _mean? With Erik, anything could have happened between us.

Suddenly it hit me that only last week I would've slapped this guy for kissing me like that. Last week he was nothing but a crazy stalker with a mask, and now? Now he was a boyfriend, and though we were both rather ecstatic about it, I knew that he wanted something more.

But we were already something more. When I took of his mask and accepted his face that first time, a sort of bond was created between us. Like between two best friends, or a brother and sister, but stronger. Then once he'd kissed me, we added boyfriend and girlfriend to that bond. It was amazing, how things could change in a matter of seconds. Change could be good, change could be bad. Change could ruin your life, change could make life better. Change had the power to do what nothing else could, and to me, our change in relationship was for the good.

Only time would tell if the good would last.


	6. Opera Ghost?

**A/N: Enjoy, my wonderful little reviewers! And review! PLEASE, PLEASE, PRETTY PLEASE!**

**Another thing; school has recently started, so I won't be updating as often as usual. Once or twice a week at most will be the updating schedule. For my "Unwelcome Arrangements" readers, I'm a bit stuck, so that's on hold. Any other unfinished story (heh, this is the only one so far) is still going.**

**Yes, I'm skipping around here a bit, just bear with me.**

Before I knew it, an entire month had passed since I first met Erik. We kept our relationship a secret, meeting on the fire escape nearly every night. Jo was getting very suspicious as to why I was out on the fire escape so often, and my lame excuse of wanting to get some fresh air didn't work anymore.

School started in August, two months later, and our relationship was still strong. I had gotten to know Erik pretty well, and yet he was still an unsolved mystery. I had yet to learn where he lived, when he ate, other than breakfast- I'd never seen him eat lunch or dinner, because he always appeared around those times- and so many other puzzling facts about him.

One particular day, Meg and I decided to visit the opera house. I'd been there once before, but that had been a very long time ago. The opera house had closed its productions many years ago, but you could still visit it.

What intrigued me to see it was the fabled underground lake. The rumors of the Opera Ghost, the book by Gaston Leroux, even the Lloyd Webber musical, included the Phantom's home under the opera house. While Meg was taking pictures of the rather impressive chandelier, I'd be sneaking past the ropes into the cellars, and hoping to find any sign of the Phantom's lair.

After handling the fee for entry, Meg and I entered the amazing structure. We climbed the grand staircase in the lobby, took a few pictures, and were soon bustling through the double doors into the amphitheater.

A few words about the amphitheater- it's huge. Seriously huge, as in, Titanic huge, bigger than Titanic huge. It has enough rows and boxes to seat all of France, a giant stage, covered in large red and gold embroidered curtains, and a massive chandelier hanging overhead. I laughed at the thought of one tiny cord up there snapping, which could possibly send the chandelier onto the people below it. The chandelier was lit with traditional gas lamps, too- it could set fire to the entire place. I laughed, as the prospect seemed virtually impossible, unless the managers were extremely cheap and hung it with fishing wire instead of steel cords.

As the rest of the tour group filed out of the amphitheater, I snuck behind the curtains of the stage, looking around. It was empty for the most part, save for a few prop bridges, some ropes, and a pile of wooden crates in one corner.

I scoured around the area, looking for anything suspicious. What did I find, other than a large, hidden, and sealed shut trap door.

It took a while to reason what the faint lines on the stage were, but as I dug my nails into one line, my hand slipped in through the crack, causing the wood plank to shudder. Excitedly, I pried the plank up a bit, pulling it to the side. Underneath was nothing but darkness. But how did the trap door get there?

Checking my surroundings, I jumped in.

I clamped my hand over my mouth to muffle my scream. I was falling, and a good distance, too. After flying downward for some time, I landed on a soft pile of something. I fingered around the pile- feathers and pillows.

I stood up, brushing the feathers off my jeans and t-shirt. I stepped forward, keeping one hand in front of me. My hand soon hit a wall, causing me to curse under my breath. Running my hand down the wall, I found something hard, something wooden. Through a crack in the stage far above me, which allowed a microscopic sliver of light, I examined the object in question.

A torch. What was a torch doing down here?

Somewhere near the wall where the torch had been, I found a small cigarette lighter. I shrugged, tossing the torch aside and taking the lighter with me. Much easier.

The lighter flared to life, a small flame illuminating the pitch black room. I looked around for something, anything, when my eyes fell on a door. I walked over to it, opening the door very slowly, to keep quiet, then silently shut it behind me. I walked forward a bit, when I heard yelling in the distance.

My heart pounded. Could it be…?

The Phantom?

There was only one way to find out. I walked forward, lighting the hall with the cigarette lighter, inching forward. The yells turned into screams of torture, causing my heart to wrench.

"HELP! MY GOD, PLEASE HELP! HE'S- CHOKING- ME- TO-"

"Death?"

I pressed my head against another door, listening. The second voice sent shivers down my spine. I knew that voice…

The other person's cries of agony were cut off by a violent sounding yank of what I thought to be rope. I threw the door open, crying out, "What in the world is going on!"

I threw my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming again. The cigarette lighter, whose flame had gone out, clattered to the floor, but it didn't matter. The room was lit with candles, all around the tiny space. One man lay dead on the floor, eyes shut as if in pain, a rope- a _noose_- around his neck, pulled dangerously tight. The other man stood behind him, eyes wide in absolute shock and fear, wearing-

Only half of a mask.

"_Erik_?"

* * *

**Bwahahahah! Normally. I would end it here, with a nice little cliffy, but I'm in a good mood, so-**

**HERE YA GO!**

* * *

Erik dropped the other end of the rope.

"Christine," he said, his voice full of remorse. "I didn't-"

"You didn't _what_?" I demanded. "You didn't mean to kill that innocent man, you didn't mean for me to find out where you lived, you didn't mean for me to find out that you're the _freaking Phantom of the Opera_?"

Erik took my rant with silence, obviously ashamed with himself.

"How could you?" I said, meaning for my statement to be bold and demanding. Instead, it came out in a pathetic whimper. I was fearing for my life here. "How could you kill him? How could you keep this so secret?"

He looked down at his victim, then stared at the wall.

"If I told you," he said slowly, "it would've ruined everything we had."

"You're damn right it did!" I shouted, tears forming in my eyes. "I thought I loved you! I thought you were a gentle guy, not some pathetic murderer! I thought you cared what I thought of you, enough to tell me the truth!" A tear trailed down my cheek, but I ignored it. "I- I thought you loved me…"

"Christine!" he growled, grabbing my shoulders. "That's why I didn't tell you! Don't you understand? If I told you, you never would've given me a chance! I had to lie, I had no damn choice!"

Tears were flowing freely down my face. "Well you obviously don't love me enough," I said, shaking free of his desperate grip. "If you truly loved me, you wouldn't murder innocent people!"

"If I let him back up, the police would be coming after me in a second's time," he tried to reason.

"That's still no excuse." I was through with this guy. I turned to walk out the door, but he grabbed my arm before I could escape. He pulled me closer to him, his arms sliding around my waist. I struggled to free myself, but to no avail.

"Those who see my face, or see me kill," he whispered, his lips close to my ear, "belong to me."

"No!" I shrieked as Erik collected me in his arms. He opened a secret doorway in the wall, walking though it, and into a hall lined with lit candelabras.

"If I put you down, will you try and escape?" he asked.

"Most likely."

"Then I guess you're stuck in my arms." He smirked at me. I glared.

"Christine, your life with me can be relatively easy, or relatively complicated," he said. "It's up to you."

"Define 'relatively complicated'," I said, still angry with him.

His smirk grew into a devilish grin. "I only have one bed."

My jaw dropped. "How can you expect me to sleep in the same bed as _you_?" I spat the question.

"Simple, it's either that, or the highly uncomfortable couch."

I groaned. "I'd rather sleep on the _floor _than with you."

His devilish grin widened. "I'm not giving you a choice, my love."

"Why are you doing this to me?" I muttered.

"Because I love you, and I can't have you any other way."

"For once, you're not far off."

* * *

**Reviews would be awesome...**


	7. Complications

Erik carried me the entire length to his home. The only time he set my down during the journey was in a boat, and even then he kept an eye on me. I debated jumping out and swimming away, but Erik had kept that in mind.

"I wouldn't bother swimming away," he said absently, staring ahead. "I'm quite fast, and you wouldn't get far anyways. You hardly know your way around."

I glared at him. "So I'm really stuck with _you _forever?" I mused. This was all a bit sudden, and I didn't know what to make of it.

"I'm not that bad," he said, smirking. "You didn't mind me when I was kissing you." I hadn't even noticed that the boat had washed ashore, that is, until Erik stepped onto the rocky surface of his lair. He bent down to kneel next to me, whispering huskily into my ear, "You even seemed to like it."

My eyes narrowed. "That was before I learned that you were a cold hearted murderer."

"Not cold hearted," he said, picking me up and clearly avoiding my annoyed stare. "If he would've sworn not to tell of my existence, I would've let him go. Alas, he did not, so unless I wanted to be hunted and killed by the police, I had to kill him."

I couldn't argue with that. "You haven't killed me."

"That's because I love you," he said, as if it were the most obvious statement in the world. "Now you understand why I didn't tell you anything, don't you?"

"A bit," I replied.

He set me down on a large bed shaped like a bird, maybe a swan or phoenix. I couldn't tell. The bed had red velvet sheets, a nightstand topped with an oil lamp sat beside it, a wardrobe, a divider you change clothes behind, and an armchair also occupied the room. Instead of walls or a door, a rope that lowered velvet curtains separated the bedroom from the rest of his little lair.

Erik sat beside me on the bed, watching me. "I want to make your stay as comfortable as ever. You can make this very hard, or very easy. It all depends on how you take everything."

"You make it sound like you're going to rape me or something," I muttered.

Erik placed a hand on my cheek, stroking it. I didn't move.

"As much as I'd enjoy making love to you," he said, his voice gentle, "I'm not going to. You already hate me enough."

I sighed. "Erik, it's not that I hate you," I said. "I'm just really mad at you. You murdered a guy in front of me, and then you kidnapped me. That doesn't exactly put you on my best friend's list."

"If I didn't," Erik countered, "I'd never be able to see you again."

"This coming from the man who's been stalking me for God knows how long," I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

"That's a bit different, my love. You wouldn't want to see me."

"What makes you think that I want to see you even _now_?"

Erik smirked. "Exactly."

I rolled my eyes. "So you're just going to keep me down here for the rest of my life?"

"Not the rest of your life," he said. "I have a nice little country house outside Rouen that we could move to. Technically, it belongs to my parents, but my mother died just a few years ago from a heart attack, and my father was dead months before I was born."

I sighed. "Do you seriously expect me to go along with all this?" I asked.

"No. I assume you'll try and escape a few times, but as soon as you realize that there's no escaping, you'll go along with it."

I fell back to the bed, my head hitting the pillows with a soft _thud_. "This is just great. I'm stuck down in a cave with a psycho stalker-murderer who owns a country house. Not exactly how I had my life planned out."

Erik lay next to me, his elbow leaning on the pillow next to the one under my head. "This isn't how I planned revealing my secret, either."

I raised an eyebrow, turning rolling to one side so I could look him in the eye. "You actually considered telling me?"

Erik nodded. "I knew it would be an extreme risk, and I would most likely lose you, but if I never told you anything, I'd lose you anyway."

I had to agree. "If it helps, I don't mind the Phantom part, just the killing and kidnapping part. Other than that, you're not so bad."

Erik gave me a wan smile. "But like you said, you're stuck down here forever."

A thousand things occurred to me at once. "What about Annie? Or Aunt Marie, or Jo, or Meg? They'll be worried sick. And who will take care of Annie?"

"I can bring your beagle here," Erik offered.

My eyes widened. "Would you really?"

Erik nodded.

"Thank you!" I exclaimed, throwing my arms around him in an embrace. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome," he said, a bit shocked.

I pulled back. "Sorry," I apologized, blushing. "Annie's just… important to me. She's all I have left of my dad. Annie's his beagle's daughter."

Erik nodded. "I understand. I'll bring her tomorrow."

I beamed. "Thank you," I said.

"Again, you're welcome, my love."

I rolled onto my back, thinking. I stayed that way for a while, then turned to face him again. "You said that this can be hard or easy. What exactly does that imply?"

Erik grinned devilishly. "I hate to ruin your mood," he said, moving closer to me, "but as I said, there's only one bed in my entire home."

"One word, Erik; couch."

"Didn't I mention that it's highly uncomfortable? I guarantee that once you try it, you'll be back to the bed in no time."

"Another word; floor."

"You'd really sleep on stone?"

I sighed. "Do you really have to make things this complicated?"

Erik's devilish smile faded into a simple smirk. "It's not that complicated. You just have to share a bed with me. It's not like I'll do anything to you in your sleep."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Because if you do-"

"Which I won't."

I frowned. "If you do, I'm sleeping on the floor."

Erik chuckled. "I can simply carry you back to the bed, my love."

I glared at him. "You know, sometimes I really loathe you."

"I can tell," he said, his smirk growing. We stayed silent for a long time, Erik playing with a strand of my hair as I stared at the ceiling. My eyelids drooped as I fought to stay awake. I rolled over to face him, closing my eyes momentarily, then opening them warily.

"You can sleep, my love," he said. "You've had a long day."

I sighed. I still didn't trust him, but sleeplessness was winning this battle. I curled up next to him, closing my eyes. Erik wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his gentle embrace. I looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

Erik smiled slightly, tucking a loose curl behind my ear. "You're safe."

Closing my eyes once more, I rested my head on his chest, his rhythmic heartbeat lulling me to sleep.

* * *

**Reviews are epic...**


	8. Playing Games

Reality hit me like a ton of bricks the next morning.

I awoke not long after I'd fallen asleep. I was still in Erik's embrace, my head resting on his chest, his arms around my waist. I lay still for a while, listening to his steady heartbeat, taking deep breaths.

That's when I made the actual connection that this was my life now. I was going to live with Erik underneath the Opera Populaire, possibly outside Rouen. I'd never see my adoptive family again, never walk the streets of Paris, shopping with Meg, never wake up at six thirty in the morning to serve breakfast, never sit on the fire escape outside my window and watch the sun set with Erik, never hear Jo make fun of the customers. That was all gone, and who did I have to thank but my psycho stalker-murderer of a boyfriend.

Erik had immediately noticed that I'd woken up. He said nothing, one hand stroking my hair, the other still around my waist.

As soon as I'd finished processing my current life situation, I looked up at him. My eyes were glossy with the tears I held back, not wanting to cry in front of him. I bit my slightly quivering lip, hiding my face in his chest. Try as I might to prevent it, a few tears leaked.

Erik lifted my head with one hand, frowning. "Christine…"

"Well, what do you expect?" I snapped, my voice weak and cracking. "My family's going to go crazy with worry, I'm trapped in a sewer for the rest of my life, and all I want is to go home! You think I'm going to be _happy _about it?" My attempt at sarcasm was pathetic; the situation was all too true.

I turned away from him, hiding my face in the pillows. "Why me…"

Suddenly I was pulled back to him, spun around so that my body was pressed flush against his. His face was contorted with angry confusion, scaring me nearly to death.

"Why you?" he asked. "Christine, I love you. I. Love. You. Since the first time I saw you two years ago, yes, two years, Christine, I've waited _two years _for you, I've loved you. I always will love you. Without you, I'm literally nothing. A hollow corpse, to match the face. I _need _you, Christine. I need you here, with me. I can't live without you! _That's _why!"

I was silent, still shocked by his rant. He'd waited two years to finally show himself. He loved me. I'd always known he'd loved me, he'd always show it somehow, but I'd never known how much. Now I knew, and I felt bad for everything I'd done to him.

"Erik…" I managed. "I didn't know… I'm so sorry…"

Erik looked away, ignoring me. The tears returned.

"Erik… please, I didn't know…" Tears flowed down my cheeks. I was devastated, it's not like I'd ever known any of this!

Erik's gaze locked with mine, His hand gently brushed the tears from my cheeks, then moved to the nape of my neck. His head bent down close to mine, his lips nearly touching my own. In a sense, he was teasing me.

"Two can play at this game," I hissed. I locked my arms around his neck, rolling over so that I lay on top of him. He smirked.

"If you wish to play a game…" he said, provoking me. I grinned wickedly. At least we'd changed the subject.

"I dare you," I teased.

Erik raised an eyebrow, his smile turning devilish. "I accept."

Erik kissed me, brushing his tongue against my lips. Our tongues battled in the midst of the passionate kiss, and before I knew it, Erik was atop of me, claiming control. I smirked against his lips. He could have control for now, but I had a few tricks of my own up my sleeve.

Erik's lips wandered across my jaw, moving down toward my neck. I bit my lip to suppress a pleasured moan. Again with the stupid hormones.

His tongue brushed against the skin of my neck, teasing me once more. This time the moan escaped, which only fed Erik's determination to drive me crazy.

"Are you sure you're not a vampire?" I joked through clenched teeth. I couldn't let him win this battle- yet it was as if he'd already won.

A sort of battle strategy formulated in my head. I grinned, pulling him back to my level, kissing him passionately. My hand wandered across his face, peeling off his mask and tossing it aside. My lips claimed every inch of his face, causing him to shudder.

"Christine…" he groaned. I smirked, moving my lips back to his.

He seized control once more, pulling me closer to him, kissing me with fevered passion. I gave up, letting him have control.

"Victory!" Erik claimed triumphantly, his lips moving across my jaw.

"This time," I said. "Besides, I let you win."

"Trifles, my love," he said. "I still won."

"Don't abuse your power," I said. "You win, but you have to be fair."

Erik raised an eyebrow. "Aren't I always fair?"

"That would be a no."

Erik laughed, moving his lips to the base of my neck. His lips became more rough, causing me to whimper with pleasure. Once more, _stupid _hormones.

"Erik…" I moaned.

Erik smirked at me. "Yes, my love?"

I rolled my eyes. "We're going to have to change the name of the game to, 'Let's See How Long We Can Drive Christine Crazy Before She Snaps'."

"I believe you're right," he said, returning his lips to my neck.

"Erik…" I groaned. "Games over, you win, cue brass fanfare, bottom line; you're driving me insane here."

Erik smirked against my neck, his lips moving lower still.

Don't get me wrong, I was enjoying every minute of this, but I had no idea what I was feeling, what I was wanting. All thanks to Erik, of course. Part of me wanted him to continue, the other part of me wanted to get the heck away from him.

Eventually, the side of me that wanted out of this won, and I began to struggle against him. "Erik, seriously."

But Erik was nowhere near finished. His lips continued their journey, stopping just above the neckline of my rather low cut shirt.

"Erik!" I shrieked.

I finally managed to pull away, rolling to the other side of the bed. Erik merely stared at me, a smirk playing across his features. I glared.

"Power abuser," I accused melodically.

Erik laughed. "Don't tell me you didn't enjoy that."

"I would, but I'd be lying," I admitted, rolling my eyes.

Erik's smirk only grew. "Victorious once more…"

I groaned. "You pride yourself on driving me crazy. That's pitiful."

"Once more, my love," he countered, "you enjoyed it."

* * *

Reviews would make my day...


	9. Escape Attempts and Precautions

Soon after our little game, Erik left for the kitchen to cook us dinner. I sat in the bedroom for a long time, thinking about his parting words. _Once more, my love, you enjoyed it._ Did I? Had I really, truly enjoyed it? Or were stupid teenage hormones taking over my sensibility?

I pondered the thought for a moment. I know for sure _Erik _enjoyed it. He couldn't stop; _I _had to pull away, or who knows what would've happened? I shuddered at the thought. But had I?

I must've, at least for a second. That I know. At first, I wanted to let him continue. But what would've happened? I'd never know. Unless there was more to his little plan than what I saw.

Did I want to know? To find out what my future under the opera would become? What would happen to me, what life I'd lead?

I didn't want to know. Not now, not ever. I wanted to live the life I'd been living since I'd moved in with the Giry's. I wanted to work at the little café, get up early every morning for work, go to school during the week, shop with Meg on Saturdays, and go to Mass on Sundays. I wanted to spend the nights on the fire escape with Erik, wanted to see Raoul, whom I hadn't seen for years, again. I didn't want any of this.

Erik knew I would try and escape. I had to be quick, very quick, and I couldn't make a sound. Not one. He could hear a penny hit the laminate floors of the café from under the opera, I'm sure.

I snuck out of the bedroom as quickly and quietly as possible, tiptoeing over to the edge of the lake. My only was out was via the gondola, but raising the gate with the lever and rowing the gondola would make too much noise.

Damn.

My eyes watered. I wanted to go home. I know, I sounded like a little kid. To be honest, I _felt _like a little kid. Have you ever gotten lost in the store while you and your mom were shopping, and couldn't find your mom? That's how I felt right now. Like a lost little kid.

I sat on the bank of the lake with a soundless sigh. Why did he have to fall in love with me? Why not some other girl? There had to be plenty more beautiful girls out there, ten times prettier than me.

I was soon walking around his lair aimlessly, still sulking childishly. It was impressive, and to this day, I wonder how he got all those candles. There was plenty of music, too, and mirrors. But the mirrors were covered up with sheets. Why bother owning mirrors, then?

Growing curious, I lifted the sheet to one mirror, carefully making no noise. I looked down. The mirror wasn't a part of the wall, as it appeared; it was propped up _against _it. Which begged the question- what was behind it?

Slowly and carefully, I moved the mirror to the side. Behind it was none other than a small passage.

I grinned. This guy was smart.

I crouched down to get a better look. The hall was about four or five feet tall by five or six feet wide, a few candelabras were attached to the stone walls, and by leaning in a bit, I could hear the lake water on the other side. The hallway must've been a shortcut to the other side of the lake.

Glancing behind briefly, making sure Erik was out of sight, I walked in. After closing the curtain behind me, I began my journey. The hall was a few yards long, but it didn't take me long to tiptoe the distance to the other side of the lake.

Once safely away from his lair, I followed the vaguely familiar paths of the catacombs. Somehow I managed to find the same room where I discovered Erik's secret. Luckily, he had disposed of the dead body, so I didn't grow too nauseous.

I was growing excited by this point. He hadn't pursued me yet, which must've been good. Of course, it could've been bad at this point; he could've been waiting for me. Regardless, I continued my journey.

I walked up to the door and opened it, only to find Erik staring at me angrily.

I screamed.

Erik walked forward, causing me to back up instinctively. He continued walking forward until I had backed against the wall. He put his arms on either side of me. I was trapped.

"E-Erik," I stuttered. "I-I…"

"Why?" he demanded, cutting off my pathetic attempt at an excuse. "Did you _really _think that I would _let _you go this far, and so easily?"

I gulped. "Erik…."

"I knew you would try and leave," he said. "Who would want to stay with a monster like me?"

"You're not a monster," I said, my firm voice cracking with fear.

"Don't lie to me, Christine," he said. "Christine… oh, Christine…"

Erik crumpled to the floor in front of me, his head in his hands. I kneeled next to him, my eyes watering as I put a hand on his shoulder.

"Erik, you're not a monster. You can't honestly believe that…"

"Shouldn't I?" he muttered. "What normal man has the face I've been cursed with?"

"I don't think it's a curse," I offered timidly. "I… I sort of… like it, actually…"

Erik looked at me, dumbfounded. "How could you…"

I cut him off, giving him a quick kiss on his unmasked cheek.

Erik smiled. He stood up, as did I, collected me in his arms, and walked in the direction of his lair.

"I'm not going to run off or anything," I said.

"Precautions, my love."

I smirked. "Or you just like holding me."

He laughed. "Both."

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**I love reviews, just so you know...**


	10. Erik vs Anti Erik and Remorse

The return trip to the lair seemed to drag on, no thanks to the fact that Erik was staring at me the entire time. I tried to focus on something else, _anything_, but my eyes always drifted back to his.

When we finally returned, Erik set me down, smiling. I smiled back weakly. Erik frowned, his hand brushing against my cheek.

"_Je t'aime_," he murmured, moving his face closer to mine. Regardless of whether I was mad at him or not, simple actions like this set my heart beating like a racehorse. Everything about him amazed me, his face, deformed or not, his touch, _him_. I wanted him to kiss me, but the side of me that was mad at him didn't. I wanted his arms around me, protecting me, the other, not so much.

At the moment, the side that wanted Erik to back off was winning. I attempted to walk away, but his arms were like steel barriers around me once more.

I could now feel the stone wall against my back, trapping me where I was. My eyes widened considerably with fear, my entire body shaking like a leaf. But Erik didn't notice, or at least didn't care, because in only moments, he was kissing me. At first his lips were coaxing and gentle, but as his passion grew, his kiss grew rougher, more demanding, _needy_, almost. I failed to respond, my utter shock and terror overwhelming me.

To be honest, I wanted this. I wanted this so badly, it pretty much scared the hell out of me. Which is precisely why I was determined to stop the kiss before he went too far. Of course, the wall and Erik himself were preventing my escape, merely heightening my despair.

"Erik," I mumbled, fighting against him. Apparently he'd taken it the other way, boldly slipping his tongue into my mouth.

I wanted to scream for all my lungs were worth. I was so confused. The Erik vs. Anti-Erik war within me had begun, and it was freaking me out. The Erik side was all for the kiss, and much more… but what did _more _define? A dozen possibilities filled my brain, and the urge to scream grew. Hence the fact that the Anti-Erik side of me was winning.

There was no stopping him now. I became limp in his arms, sagging against the wall. Erik collected me in his arms, his lips never leaving mine as he walked into his bedroom, laying me on the phoenix/swan/peacock bed. Whatever the damn bird was.

Erik's body spread over mine, and pretty soon my brain was on overdrive. Presently, I felt like screaming, moaning, and slapping him at the same time. I was confused, confused and… what? I didn't know. Thus saying, I wanted to get the hell away from him.

My arms fell to my sides in defeat, my entire form motionless beneath him. _This is it_, I thought_. Whatever he's planning, it's going to happen now. Oh, God, what's he going to do, rape me? It certainly seems like it…_

Erik's mouth finally moved from mine, his eyes looking curiously into my tear filled ones.

"Oh my God," he managed, an expression of shock covering his face. "Christine… I'm so sorry… I promised I wouldn't…"

"I-I-It's alright…" I stuttered as he rolled over next to me, pure shock and horror at what he'd almost done taking over his entire being.

"Oh, Christine…" The tears in my eyes threatened to spill over at his despair and my internal suffering. Worried, he pulled me into a hug. That did it. The tears welled over, and before I knew it, I was crying. Sobbing.

"I'm so sorry…" he kept saying over and over, stroking my hair comfortingly.

"You… you didn't…. didn't mean to…" I managed, wiping my tears quickly.

Erik sighed. "That's just it… I did."

I looked him in the eyes. "You meant to? To…"

Erik nodded shamefully. "If it hadn't been for your reaction…"

He didn't have to finish for me to understand. I blinked rapidly to prevent the second flood of tears, managing to hold most of them back.

"Christine… I'm so sorry…" he apologized, his eyes full of shame and remorse. "I can't believe I almost… I promised…"

"It's alright," I said, resting a hand on his unmasked cheek. His eyes met mine in an intense gaze, as if he was trying to read my mind. "I'm fine."

Erik dropped my gaze, still ashamed. He stood up, walking out of the room, only turning to say, "Whenever you're hungry… supper is ready."

I stayed where I was.

* * *

**Sorry it took so long for an update; gots a cold, my friend forced me to watch Twilight, New Moon, **_**and **_**Eclipse, so now I'm mentally scarred for life, and I swear, school is going to be the death of me. So I apologize for the wait and the short-ness-ness…**

**Reviews would be awesome.**


	11. Mental Battles

I stayed in the bird-thing bed the rest of the night, thinking. The Erik vs. Anti-Erik war had been long raging within me, and only now had I stopped to look at it.

The Erik side of me was all for him; his kisses, his touches, his voice, his games, _him_. Pro-Erik me loved him unconditionally, and would not regret sleeping with him. There. I said it.

The Anti-Erik side of me was completely and totally different. I just wanted to go home, away from the sewers, never looking back. I wanted to finish college, majoring in singing, and maybe become a professional music artist someday. No Erik's involved.

The fight was painful because of the fact that I loved him. Both sides of me could never doubt that. But in weighing in the fact that I didn't want to be stuck five floors underneath and opera house for the rest of my life, leaving was the only answer.

Or was it an answer at all? Erik had made it rather clear that there was no escaping. I'd learned that well enough. So it was obvious now that I had no choice. I had no questions to answer, no choices to make, nothing.

Technically, I had made a choice. I chose to not flip out and call the cops when Erik first met me on the fire escape. I chose to accept his face, to let him kiss me. A lot. I chose to look for the Opera Ghost. It reminded me of something my eighth grade PE teacher told my class before our first mile run.

It was dreadfully hot, and the lot of us were anxious to get it over with. The teacher, Ms. Burgundy, kept us stretching and preparing for the entire ten minutes before the run. A lot had chosen not to listen, lining up at the track.

"I've taught you the skills," Ms. Burgundy had said. "Now you make the decisions. You make the choices. And you live by the consequences."

The consequences for this group? Muscle pain and cramps for life.

For me? I was stuck with a psycho stalker-murderer in a cave-like sewer for the rest of eternity.

That night, after all the candlelight in the organ room was blown out- Erik?- I was still alone. If it hadn't been for the fact that he'd nearly raped me earlier, I would've assumed that he was avoiding me. Knowing Erik, he was still ashamed. When I'd come in for supper, he'd left me in the kitchen, still sulking.

I walked out into the darkness, the only light coming from Erik's study, right next to the kitchen. Hesitantly, I walked into the doorway.

Erik turned to face me from where he sat at his desk. His expression revealed nothing but sorrow and pain.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I-I couldn't sleep…" I lied, walking slowly towards him, stopping at the edge of his desk.

Erik looked me in the eyes. "Christine…"

I sighed. "I just hate how you're still beating yourself up over something that didn't happen."

"But it almost did," he reminded me.

"But it didn't," I contradicted.

"And it may 'almost' happen again," he said sadly, looking down at his desk.

"It may?"

"As long as you stay so…" He stopped short, his gaze returning to mine. "So… beautiful. Wonderful." He stood up, raising his hand to cup my cheek. "_Tempting_…"

I was deeply afraid of his words, yet I managed not to show it. Still, fear flickered in my eyes, and Erik doesn't miss anything.

"You have no idea… you think _you're _scared… do you have even the slightest notion what you do to _me_?"

I shook my head, confused. "I… what?"

Erik let out a shaky laugh. "Yes… I've never felt this way before, not towards anyone. I love you, and only you, always you, and now that I have you, in a sense, I've started to… _want _you."

I swallowed hard. "Erik… I should probably have something intelligent, possibly sarcastic, to say to that… but to be honest, I don't." I took a deep breath, attempting to clear my mind.

"I've been going through some, er, internal conflict, I guess," I tried. "About… well, about you. It's a little war going on in my brain, and I say going on because it's not over yet. Pro-Erik Christine vs. Anti Erik Christine. I love you, there's no doubt about that, but part of me, well, _all _of me, almost, wants to go home. When I started freaking out when you… never mind… it was because of the battle in my head."

Erik was silent, thinking. His eyes looked deeply into mine, searching for anything resembling trepidation. He found plenty.

"I don't know…" I answered his silent question. "I hate to break it to you, but the Anti-Erik side _was _winning. Right now…" I let the sentence hang. It was obvious- Pro-Erik was in the lead. For now…

He groaned, almost inaudibly, moving closer to me. "Christine…" His hand gently caressed my cheek, his lips close to mine.

"Go right ahead," I told him. "I've nothing against it… yet."

Erik smirked, kissing me. He managed to maintain the gentility for a good while, but temptation got the best of him, and his kiss became rough. He backed me against the wall slowly, still holding back, attempting to stay away from the bird-thing bed, no doubt.

Finally, he managed to pull away. Erik braced himself against the wall, opposite of where I stood.

"Go," he commanded between breaths.

I sighed, walking out the door. I didn't bother dressing in any of the nightgowns provided, just laying there in the bird bed, thinking.

"Erik…" I whimpered when sleep finally came.

For one measly, yet completely miserable, night of my life, I was completely and utterly alone.

Alone and afraid.

* * *

**Don't expect any updates soon; cold and stupid homework are getting in the way. I was barely able to finish this chapter. : ( Pity me.**

**AND REVIEWWW!**


	12. Dreams and Options

**It's 1:04 in the morning right now, and I'm extremely tired, but I just HAD to write this. Random ideas=this chapter. ENJOYY!**

My dreams seemed to be against me that night.

_I was in Erik's lair, outside his study. As soon as I walked in, I was trapped between him and the wall._

"_You know you want me," he hissed seductively. "You feel it…"_

_I shook my head. "Erik, don't!"_

"_Too late!" he shouted maniacally. "You are _mine_!"_

_Suddenly, another Erik appeared. "Leave the poor girl alone!"_

"_Very well, then!" the first Erik said. "Let's see what happens when _you're _near her!" _

_The second Erik walked toward me, trembling. "Christine…"_

"_You want her, too!" the first Erik shouted gleefully. "Either way you choose, Christine, you cannot win!"_

I sat upright in the swan bed, having broke out in a cold sweat. My hands were clammy, my vision shaky and blurred. I blinked rapidly, then stood up to check the time. The grandfather clock next to the organ read 1:18 in the morning.

I sighed, walking back to the bed, laying down, fully intentional on staying awake for as long as possible. I didn't want to return to that dream.

"Christine?" a familiar voice asked. I sat up.

"Erik?" I asked. "You're still awake?"

"Of course," he said. "I always am."

He certainly seemed wide awake, the dark circles under his unmasked eye barely noticeable. He was still fully clothed, as was I.

"But why are you up so early?" he asked.

I shivered involuntarily. "I haven't exactly been loving my dreams lately," I said.

Erik sat next to me, looking me in the eye. "Can you tell me about it?"

I sighed. "It's sort of bad. And it involves you. Well, _two _of you, actually…"

Erik raised an eyebrow teasingly. "Two of me?"

I laughed a bit. "Yes, two." I took a deep breath. "I walked into your study, and you… that is, you _almost_… er, I don't really have to say, for you to understand… anyways, but then another one of you showed up and tried to get the first you away from me, and you reacted almost the same way around me, and then I woke up."

I could see Erik was processing all this. He was deeply disturbed by the utter truth behind my dream, because he did want me, and a lot. Luckily, his love was greater than his lust, so I was safe. But the dream had uncovered the frightening truth that he could snap, and no amount of love would be able to stop him.

"Christine…" He sighed. "I love you. You know that, right?"

I nodded.

"Well… do you… love me?"

My eyes widened at his unexpected question. Of course I did! Didn't I?

Didn't I? My emotions and thoughts were pretty jumbled at the time, especially with the mental Erik war going on, I wasn't really sure of anything anymore.

"Yes, of course," I decided to answer. It was true enough, but the question was, how long would it be before I'd rather be free than stay with Erik?

Erik nodded, still deep in thought, contemplating something. "Now… when people… love each other… no, I'm not talking about sleeping with you… sometimes… they get… married."

My jaw dropped. Was he doing what I _thought _he was doing?

Erik managed a wan smile. "I hate to disappoint you, amour, but no, I'm not proposing. Not right now- I'd need a ring, first. I just wanted to know… is that possible? For us?"

I stared at him for a moment before processing his words. Marriage… it sounded so… _formal_. So _proper_. And let me tell you, there was nothing _formal _or _proper _about the two of us. Nothing, nada, el zipo.

_Marriage_… was he seriously thinking about _marrying _me?

It didn't surprise me after a second. He loved me, only me, and chances were, he'd never love anyone else. He was basically obsessed with me. It wasn't surprising that he'd go so far as to marry me.

"I… suppose," I began, "that… _marriage_… would be an option."

Erik frowned. "What's wrong with marriage?"

"Nothing, nothing," I said hurriedly.

Erik's frown melted into a teasing smirk. "Afraid of commitment?"

I blushed. "No!"

"Then if I pulled out a ring right now and asked you to marry me, what would you say?"

"Are we seriously talking about this?"

"You said it was an option."

I sighed, aggravated. "Yes, it _is _an option. However, I'd like some time to sort out my brain right now. Please hold."

Erik nodded. "Right… how is that turning out at the moment, anyways?"

I smirked playfully. "No worries- you're in the lead."

I kissed him softly, moving closer to him. I could sense his panic, and considered pulling away, yet I did no such thing, pulling him closer instead.

"At this rate," he managed, pulling his lips from mine, "marriage is necessary."

I rolled my eyes, kissing him again.

"Christine," he mumbled against my lips, pulling me closer. "Please. You're killing me here."

Reluctantly, I pulled away. I frowned, pouting.

"Erik?" I asked sweetly.

"Yes?"

"Please," I begged, grazing my lips seductively against his. "Kiss me…"

Erik nearly jumped from the bed, panting and clutching the wall for support.

"You underestimate my self control, amour," he said.

I looked down, rejection washing over me. "Alright."

Erik frowned, then crawled next to me, capturing me in a sweet, gentle kiss. I smiled against his lips, pulling him closer to me.

"If I go any farther," he said, "you'd lose your innocence, right here, right now."

I crawled away from him, my lips still tingling. "I'd love for you to kiss me again, but I'd like to stay innocent until I'm married."

"So you _would _say yes if I asked you to marry me?"

I groaned, climbing underneath the sheets of the bed."Yes. Yes, I would. But let the battle in my head finish before I _officially _answer that question."

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**So whadaya think? Too intimate? Not nearly enough? I'm going insane? Wait, you already knew that! REVIEWW!**


	13. Goodbye?

**Be afraid, my little readers. Be very afraid. AND REVIEWWW!**

* * *

I woke up again at 4:30, still wide awake. Erik was asleep next to me, one arm still wrapped around me. I smiled; he hadn't done anything.

The prospect of this happening every night stirred uneasy feelings towards staying here. And if the only solution was marriage, which was coming way too fast for me, did I really want to stay?

I needed time. Time alone, to think. But was there such thing as time alone, when Erik was always by my side?

Later, I would regret this, but at the time, I was completely sure of my uncalled for actions.

Running silently to Erik's study, I pulled out a pen and a piece of paper. I wrote,

_Erik,_

_Please, don't look for me. I need time alone, to think. Sort out the increasingly confusing maze in my brain. I don't know when I'll be back, but I swear to you that I will come back someday. I'm so sorry for doing this to you, but I need to be alone._

_All my love,_

_Christine_

_P.S. I give you permission to be completely pissed at me when I come back._

With an uneasy sigh, I folded up the note. I crept up to the side of the bed, where Erik was still asleep. The sight of him, sleeping peacefully, thinking that I was still here, tore my heart in two. But it had to be done.

I set the note on my pillow, then looked for the mirror with the secret passageway. Once successfully finding the passageway, I found my way to the hall with the candelabras, then- was that another mirror? With a shrug, I pulled the mirror aside dreadfully slowly, then walked into the pitch black room. I felt along the walls, when my hand hit a doorknob. Stealthily, I opened the door, not daring to shut it, for fear of making any noise.

This section of the opera I vaguely remembered from the tour. I headed down several flights of stairs, then stopped in front of the familiar double doors.

Something wasn't right. He would never let me leave this easy.

Of course he wouldn't. After all, he was right behind me.

Slowly, I turned to face him. He stood on the grand staircase, a piece of paper on one hand.

"I read your note," he said, walking toward me. His face, which I couldn't see clearly in the dim light, gave away no emotion, no pain, nothing.

"I'd like to know exactly what you were thinking when you wrote this," he said coolly.

"I told you," I managed, fighting the angry tone I wished to use. "I'm leaving."

"And _I _told _you_," he said, now standing right in front of me, "that I won't let you leave."

"Erik, please!" I nearly yelled. "Please! I swore that I would come back! Why don't you believe me?"

"Because who would come back?" he yelled angrily. "Who would _want _to come back? No one!"

I was hurt. "You really think so little of me?"

Erik's anger vanished, remorse taking its place. "No, Christine, that's not-"

"Well if that's what you really think, maybe I _won't _come back!" I spat. Tears welled in my eyes as I ran for the door. I turned back to him one last time. My hurt at his words was getting the best of me, and I wanted to hurt him back. "And to think, I actually thought you loved me!"

I ran out the door before Erik could react. I stopped nearly two blocks later. It had started to rain, and I was having a bit of trouble finding my way. Not because of the rain, though. Because of my own tears.

"Christine!" I heard him shout. The tears increased, a knot forming in my throat as I ran faster. I was soaked to the bone, the downpour of rain making it impossible to see anything.

Of course Erik would never have a problem like that. Of course he would come after me. Of course I would've hurt him with those words. Of course I regretted saying what I did.

Erik hugged me, stroking my matted curls. "It's alright, I'm here," he crooned.

I sobbed into his shoulder, overcome with emotion. I hadn't meant anything I said, and as much as I wanted to take it back, I couldn't find the words to.

"I'm sorry," was all I could say, over and over.

Erik looked me in the eyes. "_I'm _the one who's sorry… I _do _trust you. I _do _love you."

I took a deep breath. "Then would you still trust me if I said that I'll come back?"

Erik looked down. "Well, yes… are you serious?"

I nodded, refusing to meet his gaze.

"How long will you be gone?" he asked.

"I… I don't know… but not _too _long… I love you, too, remember?"

Erik didn't speak for a long moment. I knew it was tearing him apart to let me go, ripping him to shreds. "I love you…" was all he could say.

I smiled sadly. "I'll miss you."

"Then don't leave," he offered.

I shook my head. "I have to, Erik."

I could see the tears trailing down the unmasked side of his face, and could only assume that it was the same underneath the mask. My face had been long since soaked with tears.

I finally met Erik's gaze. Only then did I see the hurt and pain his expression betrayed.

"Erik…" I murmured, looking down.

"Just grant me something," he said, lifting my head with one hand. "Let me kiss you one last time."

With a weak smile, I stretched up on my toes and kissed him. Only then did I remember that it was raining.

I remembered that when I was ten, and talking to Meg, that I'd once said I'd always wanted to someday kiss a boy in the rain.

"_That's gross!" Meg had shouted._

_I shrugged. "It's romantic, Meggie."_

_Meg rolled her eyes. "Sure, but remember, you're ten. Not twenty two."_

"_I meant when I'm older, when Aunt Marie says boy's won't be weird anymore."_

_Meg shook her head. "I don't see how that's going to happen."_

Erik returned the kiss passionately, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me closer. My arms wound around his neck, anxious to deepen the kiss. He slipped his tongue into my mouth, and this time I welcomed it. It had been too long since we'd shared a remotely enjoyable kiss.

And it would be a long time until we kissed again. Only I knew where I'd be for the next month or so. And where I'd be, he most likely couldn't visit. It pained me to leave him like this, but what could I do? I had to set things straight with myself before I did anything else. And to do that, I had to leave my distractions behind and fully concentrate on my own brain.

I pulled away unwillingly, looking deeply into his eyes.

"Never forget," I said. "I love you."

A taxi drove by. Managing to wave it down, pulling twenty francs from my pocket, spare change from the opera tour, I climbed into the backseat and handed the driver the money.

"Giry Breakfast Company," I said. "And fast."

I spared a glance out the window.

He was gone.


	14. Departures and Godfathers

After I had been dropped off at the Giry Breakfast Company, I headed in the direction of the fire escape. I climbed up several flights of stairs, stopping outside my window. I sighed, turning back to the stairs. It was quiet- too quiet.

I heard a sigh. Erik stepped out of the shadows, not meeting my gaze.

"Of course you followed me," I said, rolling my eyes. Erik's eyes met mine, his expression pained and hurting.

"Erik…" I sighed.

"I can't…" he said. I raised an eyebrow. "You can't leave me…"

I looked away, opening the window to my room carefully. "It's not like I want to… I have to. If I stay… there's no way I'll ever be able to answer any of your questions, nor my own questions. I have to set my mind straight, and the only way is to leave for awhile…"

Erik sat on the steps of the fire escape, head in his hands. It wrenched my heart to see him like this, but I didn't have much of a choice. I climbed in the window, silently grabbing a suitcase, filling it with clothes, money, a toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, a comb; the works. I zipped it shut, when Annie pounced on me, licking my hand happily.

"Good to see you, too," I said with a smile. I then realized that where I was going, I couldn't take her with me. I'm pretty sure you couldn't take dogs in airplanes, and the person I was visiting was allergic to dogs. (**Ok, I just made that up. I don't know if he's actually allergic to dogs. If someone knows, please tell me.**)

With a sigh, I climbed back out to the fire escape.

"Erik," I began, sitting next to him. "Where I'm going, I can't take Annie with me, and you _did _say you'd bring her to your home… I know, it's a lot to ask, and I don't expect you to, but… could you… watch her for me? Take care of her?"

Erik's surprised gaze met mine. "Of course…" he said.

Tears welled in my eyes. "I'm so sorry…"

I hugged him, not knowing what else to do. "I love you…"

He was crying. I could tell, because his voice cracked when he said, "I love you, too, amour. Always."

I pulled away, looking deeply into his eyes.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I can't tell you that," I answered with a sad smile. If I do, you'll follow me."

He looked down, eyes closed in despair. I lifted his head with one hand, kissing him softly. Of course, he got more out of that kiss than I willingly gave him.

He backed me against the rails of the staircase, his hands entwining in my disheveled hair, still soaked from the never ceasing rain. His kiss grew rough, his passion growing. He was afraid of losing me, of never seeing me again. That much was clear.

I returned the kiss with just as much passion. His fear grew with his lust, and soon his tongue was mingling with mine.

"Christine," he murmured. "I love you. I _want _you…"

I stood up suddenly. "Erik…"

He looked away. "Go."

I frowned, climbing inside to grab my suitcase. As I climbed back out, Annie followed, sitting near Erik obediently. I shut the window quietly, suitcase in hand. I stood there for some time, simply staring at him longingly.

He didn't meet my gaze. "Go, then!" he nearly shouted.

Startled, I hurried down the metal steps to the alleyway below. Running out, I waved down another taxi, hurrying inside. I didn't look back once.

* * *

At the airport, I paid for a last minute flight to London, England. The flight took a total of four hours, and it seemed to drag on forever. My mind kept straying back to Paris, to _him_.

But I had to concentrate. Erik vs. freedom… believe it or not, it was a tough decision. I wanted to complete high school, move on to college and become a professional singer. But my love for Erik prevented that. If I chose Erik, I would live in a sewer, mind you, a _decorative _and rather nicesewer, for the rest of my life. If I chose freedom, I'd never see him again.

Finally, the plane landed, and I was able to stretch my legs. It was now 8:30 in the morning, and I knew exactly where I was headed. Another taxi drove me to my friend's rather large apartment in London, only a few blocks from the Majestic Theater. I hurried up the steps to flat 561, knocking on the door, hoping it wasn't too early in the morning for him.

The door opened. Inside was a man with graying hair, brown eyes and sort of pale skin, wearing a light blue shirt and tan dress pants. He stood only a few inches taller than me, and at the moment, was shocked to see me.

"Well, if it isn't my goddaughter."

I laughed. "It's good to see you, too, Andrew."

* * *

**Don't act like you saw that coming. You know you didn't. **

**Well, what do you think? REVIEWWW!**


	15. Love Sucks

A word about my godfather. His name is Andrew Lloyd Webber. Yes, the Andrew Lloyd Webber, composer, wrote some musical called _Cats _that I'd only seen once. I'd been to his apartment before, five or six years ago, on summer break. He had known my dad; they'd gone to the same music college in London.

When I'd knocked on the door, he'd been playing something on his grand piano. Something soft, like a lullaby, but sad at the same time. He ushered me in quickly, obviously curious as to why I was here.

I hugged my godfather. "I missed you," I said. "Do you mind if I stay with you for a while?"

"Of course not!" he answered. "You're always welcome in my home, Christine."

I smiled, the first genuine smile in a long time. "Thank you, Andrew."

"My pleasure, Miss Daae," he said.

I took my suitcase to the guest room, unpacking the few things I'd taken with me. Andrew was playing the same sad song when I came back out into the living room. Once the song was finished, he looked up at me. "What do you think?"

"It's beautiful," I said. "What's it for?"

"A new project I'm working on," he answered. "_The Phantom of the Opera_."

A knot formed in my throat. My hands were clammy, and I was sweating. "_The Phantom of the Opera_?"

He nodded, furrowing his eyebrows. "Christine? What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing," I said, shaking my head. "I'm fine."

"Alright," he said, looking concerned.

"What's the song called?" I asked, hoping to change the subject.

"_Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again_," he answered.

Okay, that didn't help at _all_. Frankly, that made things worse.

"It's amazing," I said.

"I have a lot more written," he said. "Between you and me, my inspiration? My fiancée, Sarah."

"Oh, yes, I remember," I said, nodding. Sarah Brightman was going to marry him, apparently, so it wasn't surprising he'd take a love story and write a musical of it for her.

Andrew smiled. "Would you like to hear some more?"

I nodded. "I'd love to."

In a matter of three hours, Andrew had played the entire score for me. A man named Charles Hart had written lyrics to it, so I had those to read as well. I was in tears for the entire ending.

"That was beautiful," I said, wiping my tears.

Andrew smiled again. "I'd say I'm sorry for making you cry, but that's sort of the point towards the end."

I laughed. "It is the point, isn't it?"

But that wasn't why I was crying, though it certainly had something to do with it. The entire time, especially when the Phantom was singing, I thought of _him_. I thought of how much I missed him, remembered every detail of his deformed yet beautiful face, twisted and contorted into a look of pain, no thanks to me. He was hurting, and it was my fault.

"Would you like some lunch?" Andrew asked. I jumped a bit, coming back from my reverie. I glanced at the clock. 11:58.

"Yes, thank you," I said. "Um, I'll be right back."

I walked to the guest room quickly, wiping my tears still. As soon as I'd shut the door, I collapsed on the bed.

It was clear now how much I needed him. I was completely lost without him. Though the prospect of freedom seemed more important, it was obvious, now that I was _free_, what was more important.

Erik.

But I had just gotten here! It would be rude to leave now.

I sighed. Being in love sucked.

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	16. Five Phreaking Months Later

Five. Freaking. Months.

I was in London for five months, and five months too many.

Most of the time, I was visiting with Andrew and Sarah, watching rehearsals for _Phantom of the Opera_, helping backstage, and other such things. Andrew had also let me use his laptop, and I was using it often, emailing Meg and Aunt Marie. My aunt had known where I was when I had disappeared, but had yet to tell me how she knew Erik. Meg was anxious to know every detail of my capture, but I described my time with Erik vaguely. And by vaguely, I mean I made it up as I went. I didn't tell her anything.

This particular day was a week before opening night of _Phantom_. I was at the Majestic, half watching Michael and Sarah rehearse, half reading Meg's latest email.

_Oh. My. GOD. You actually met MICHAEL CRAWFORD! Why didn't you take me with you? I'm forever jealous._

_You still haven't told me much about this Erik guy. I'm worried, Chris. While you were here, you seemed scared of him. Now, it's like you miss him or something. Eh, crazy girl hormones, right? I hope so. Otherwise, you've got to be insane, girl._

_When are you coming back? I mean, I understand if you want to stick around for the premiere of your godfather's musical, but I miss you like crazy! As soon as it's over, you are getting on the very first plane to Paris, got it? It's lonely here without you! Oh, and __Jo says hi, he misses you, too._

_Love you like a sister,_

_Meg_

I smiled at her rant. Of course she'd miss me. And I made a mental note to include a hello to Jo in my reply.

Suddenly, another email appeared. I frowned.

From: ?

Date: April 8, 2010, 9:34 P.M.

To:

Subject: (None)

_Christine,_

_I finally found your email. I suppose you didn't know I owned a computer, did you? No, I have many secrets, amour, a laptop being one of them._

I froze. Amour…

_Yes, it's me. _

My heart stopped beating. I could no longer hear Michael and Sarah singing "The Phantom of the Opera" for the millionth time. I couldn't see Andrew's worried look as I started shaking uncontrollably.

_Five months, amour. It's obvious to me now that you're not coming back. I was a fool for letting you go. Is that what you think I am? A fool?_

_Your aunt has been kind enough to inform me that you are in London._

What?

_If you are not back in one week, I'm coming for you myself._

_Do you realize what you've done to me, amour? I've been in pain… sleeping little… my pain has even driven me to hallucinations… I miss you… I _need _you here… I honestly thought you cared about me. Yes, I was a fool for believing you._

_Please, come back…_

The message was not signed. Not that it needed to be.

Erik. Who else?

Anxiously, I hit the 'reply' button, typing hurriedly,

_You never cease to surprise me, Erik. I'd never think you had a laptop. Truthfully, I left my laptop at home, but my godfather's lending me his._

_No need to come for me. One reason, you don't know where in London I am. Another reason, I'm coming home._

_Do you honestly think these five months have been kind to me? That I haven't missed you at all? You really think that?_

_I've missed you. A lot. The only reason that I was gone so long was to help my godfather with his new musical, ironically enough, 'The Phantom of the Opera'. I've missed you, and I know now that I need you, too. I love you. And I've made my decisions. I've thought everything out. _

_I'm coming home, my love. I'll be back in five days. I swear to you, I will. And I'll never leave you again. Ever._

_All my love, and so much more,_

_Christine_

With a sigh, I clicked 'Send Message'. I closed the Internet browser and shut the laptop, placing it on the seat next to me.

Five days. Five unbearable days until opening night. As soon as the show was over, I was destined for a plane to Paris, then the Giry Breakfast Co., then the fire escape. Somehow I knew I'd see him there.

Five months, and I hadn't been the only one in pain.

* * *

**Alright, I skipped a LOT of angst-painness. That's because I honestly don't think, since Christine is narrating this, she'd want to talk about it.**

**Mad at me for passing up a chance to torture Christine? Glad I didn't? Think I should shut up now? REVIEWWWW!**


	17. Skype and Promises

Immediately after rehearsals, Sarah pulled me aside, looking concerned.

"Christine, I saw you during rehearsals today. You were as pale as… well, Michael's makeup!"

I had to laugh. "That pale?"

Sarah laughed, but it didn't last long. "Christine, what's wrong?"

I sighed. "Um…" I couldn't very well tell her that the Phantom of the Opera,_ the real _Phantom of the Opera, had emailed me. She'd call the doctor. "I… uh… got an email from… a friend… er, and I was just surprised, I didn't know they had Internet access, other than a public library or something."

Sarah didn't seem convinced the least bit. Not that I'd expected her to be. It was a pathetic lie.

"Really, I was just surprised," I said. That much was true. It was a huge surprise that Erik would have a laptop. I'd never seen him use it, and he'd never emailed me before.

"Alright. But do me a favor and tell me why you _really _were scared next time I talk to you." With a sympathetic smile, Sarah walked away.

I sighed, walking back to the laptop. No new emails. I half hoped Erik would email me back. It'd be great to hear from him.

As soon as I'd thought that, memories of the months before flooded into my mind.

_~Flashback~_

_I was curled up in a ball on the bed, sobbing. My arms were wrapped around my stomach, as if I were trying to hold myself together._

_Why was I still here? I was in pain without him. I needed him, his comforting arms around me, his words that told me that everything was alright, him. I was suffering without him, what was I still doing here?_

_The teasing image of him, smiling at me, saying, "My beautiful Christine… I love you…" flooded my mind for the millionth time over. The sobs grew, and didn't quiet for ages. I was surprised that Andrew had left me alone._

_Andrew. I felt bad for my godfather. Seeing me suffer had him suffering as well. Another reason why I should leave._

_Soon, I kept telling myself. You'll see your Erik soon._

Erik_…_

_The sobs returned._

_~End of Flashback~_

I shuddered at the memory. Finally, after much waiting, _Phantom _would premiere, and I could go home, to my Erik.

I spent the rest of the day on IM with Meg, which was very interesting, given the fact that all she wanted to hear about was 'that Erik guy'.

In the middle of the conversation, a new email appeared in my inbox, from '?'. Same as last time…

I smiled.

**Daae: Brb, new email to check.**

**LittleGiry: K. Hurry up!**

I laughed.** Daae: Will do.**

I clicked on the email, reading it over and over anxiously.

_Can I trust you to come home? Honestly? If you're not back by the time you say you will be, you'll regret it. _

_I never said you hadn't missed me. I was merely stating the fact that I've been in much more pain than you have, so much more…_

_Do you have a webcam?_

That was all it said. 'Do you have a webcam?', why, yes, I did.

Suddenly, another IM chat box popped up.

**?: Christine.**

My heart stopped beating.

**Daae: … Erik?**

**?: Who else?**

I smiled. **Daae: No one. And, yes, I have a webcam, I use it to talk to Meg.**

**?: Good.**

**Daae: Do you?**

Immediately, the face I'd missed for God knows how long filled the screen. Tears welled in my eyes.

"Does that answer your question?" Erik asked.

I nodded, unable to speak. The tears in my eyes spilled down my cheeks, but not of sorrow, of pure joy.

"Erik, I've missed you so much…"

He looked down, overcome with emotions of his own.

"Please," I said. "Don't look away… I've missed this face too much…"

He smiled back at me. "You're as beautiful as ever…"

I blushed a bit, then noticed that he was still wearing his mask. "Erik, take your mask off. I would take it off myself, but I can't reach through the screen."

He laughed, removing that stupid mask I hated. I smiled wider.

"Much better," I said.

"If you could reach through the screen," he said quietly, "I'd have you with me already…"

I frowned. "I had to stay, to help my godfather…"

"I understand," he said. "I just… Christine…"

He looked at me forlornly.

"I'm coming back," I reminded him. "Tomorrow night. Right after the premiere."

I jumped at a buzzing sound from my computer.

**LittleGiry: That's not very fast, Christy!**

"Meg," I answered. "I was talking to her, and now she's mad at me for ignoring her."

Erik laughed.

**Daae: Im on skype with someone, hold on for just a second.**

**LittleGiry: Who?**

**Daae: …**

**LittleGiry: CHRISTINE! Who?**

**Daae: … um… Erik…**

**LittleGiry: WHAT?**

**Daae: I'll talk to you later! Bye!**

I shut the chat screen with Meg before she could reply, returning to Skype.

Erik smiled. "I've missed your face too much…" With a mischievous smirk, he added, "But that's not all I've missed…"

I blushed a bit at what his words suggested. "Don't think I haven't…"

"I never said you hadn't…"

"Christine?" Andrew called. "Time for lunch!"

I sighed. "My godfather," I said, answering his unasked question. "And yes, I'll be back as soon as possible."

I could see the tears running down his face. "I love you…"

With a sad smile, I said, "I love you, too…"

"Hurry back…" he said.

"Always…"

"Christine, are you coming?" Andrew asked.

"Just a second, Andrew!" I replied. Looking back at the screen, Erik was already gone.

**?: I love you more than life itself.**

And he was gone.

* * *

**Whhoaaaa... Robin Hood reference there. And a New Moon reference... you see? My creative brain has been TAINTED! AAAAHHHH!**

**REVIEWWWW!**


	18. Parties and Proposals

_Phantom _was a huge success. I'd never applauded so much in my life. Andrew was especially pleased, and the praises from the audience never ceased.

But that wasn't on my mind anymore. My mind was preoccupied with getting to the airport, flying to Paris, and seeing Erik again. That's all I was concerned with. Nothing more.

Andrew and Sarah drove me to the London International Airport, smiling and waving as I stepped out of the car, grabbed my suitcase, and took off for the waiting area for Flight 551. The plane would supposedly land in Paris at midnight, and Meg had let slip about a surprise welcome home party. I smiled inwardly at the thought.

The wait for takeoff was endless, as were the six hours to Paris, especially when the two girls sitting next to me just wouldn't shut up. But I made it.

I lugged my suitcase to the east side of Paris International Airport, searching the endless rows of cars for Aunt Marie's familiar red bug. I smiled as I spotted it, running to the car and climbing into the backseat, where Meg nearly choked the wind out of me in a hug.

"CHRISTY!" she shouted. "I missed you! You can NEVER leave me for that long anymore, you hear me?"

I nodded, taking deep breaths. I was home. I was home.

Jo smiled at me from the front passenger seat. "Why, hello there, Miss Daae."

I laughed. "Hello, Jo."

"What, no 'hello' for me?"

I gasped, looking past Meg to the far left seat. "Raoul?"

Raoul smiled. "Of course."

I hugged my old friend, happy to see him. Through email, I'd learned that Raoul and Meg started going out, which was perfectly fine with me.

Aunt Marie gave me a knowing look. "Someone's been asking about you."

I returned the look. "Ah… where is said person?"

"They said they'll see you at your usual meeting place."

I nodded. Meg gave me a frustrated look.

"I'm tired of not knowing what's going on half the time!" she yelped.

I sighed. "Um…" I looked to my aunt for help.

Aunt Marie smirked at me. "Your sister's been hiding her beau from us, I do believe."

I blushed deep maroon. 'Boyfriend' hardly covered it. Try 'fate' or 'all I want in life'. That's him.

"WHAT?" Meg screeched. "How could you not tell me something like this?"

"I, um, I don't know," I answered honestly.

"Oh well," she said, hugging me again. "I HAVE to meet him."

"You already have," I said to myself.

"Oh, I believe you will," Aunt Marie said, winking at me. I raised an eyebrow. She obviously knew something I didn't.

The red bug soon parked in front of the Giry Breakfast Company, and we all filed in for cake and ice cream. Meg and Raoul had put up streamers and a sign reading, "Welcome Back!" earlier that day, and I must admit, they did a good job. Still, throughout the entire evening, my eyes wandered to the staircase that led to the bedrooms.

Finally, after cake, ice cream, and much talking about London, Aunt Marie caught my longing look at the stairs.

"Christine, you've had a long day, why don't you go to bed?" she asked.

I nodded. "Thank you," I mouthed as I picked up my suitcase, lugging it to my bedroom. The room was in the same disheveled state I'd left it in. I threw the suitcase onto the bed, hurriedly opening the window and climbing outside. It was now 1:00 in the morning, and the cold air was refreshing against my skin, still somewhat heated from rushing around the airport.

"Erik?" I whispered the question, looking around for a sign of him.

I didn't have to search for long. He was leaning against the rail opposite where I stood, dressed like the day we first met on the fire escape, save for the jean jacket he now wore. I stood there staring at him for God knows how long, then as the tears welled in my eyes, ran over to hug him desperately.

"Christine," he murmured into my hair. God, I'd missed that voice.

Tears spilled over and onto his jacket, but there was nothing I could do about them. I was, in this moment alone, happier than I'd been in months.

Erik pulled away to look me in the eyes. His green orbs were glossed over with tears, and I knew he was happy, too. "Next time you're away for so long, I'm coming with you."

I laughed a bit. "That's not going to happen, because I'm not going anywhere."

"I can live with that," he said, moving one hand to my hair, the other to my cheek. He bent his head close to mine, his lips nearly against my own. Finally, I broke the gap, kissing him. His arms moved around my waist, pulling me closer. I locked my arms around his neck, never wanting to let go. Erik backed me up against the wall, his kiss growing rough. This time around, I did nothing to stop it.

He pulled away, looking at me curiously. "I half expected you to stop me."

I shrugged. "I told you, I've thought everything out."

"And the verdict is?"

I laughed a bit. "You."

His lips claimed mine once more in another passionate kiss, and I returned the kiss gladly. I'd missed this, missed _him_, so much. I was so lost in my thoughts and the kiss that I'd barely noticed him pick me up, carry me into my bedroom, and lay me down next to him, never breaking the kiss. As soon as I noticed our rather precarious position, I thanked my rarely lucky stars that I'd locked my bedroom door.

"Erik," I managed, pulling my lips from his. "We shouldn't…"

He nodded, still not moving from where he was. At the moment, he lay pretty much on top of me, his arms around my waist, as if… I nearly blushed at the thought of what our position might lead someone to believe.

"Shouldn't," he said. "You mean…"

I blushed. "Um…"

He smiled, kissing me again. I moaned as he slipped his tongue into my mouth, one hand straying to the nape of my neck, bringing me closer to him. His lips wandered across my jaw, moving to my neck.

"Just how much did you miss me?" he asked, never ceasing his torture.

"Much more than you or I thought possible…" I managed through gritted teeth, my hands clawing at the sheets. "A _lot_."

He smirked against my skin, moving his lips back to mine, to my relief.

"I told you, Erik, I'm not… er, you know… until I'm married or something," I said. "Engaged, possibly."

He pulled away, giving me the slightest bit of space. "This time, I'm prepared."

My eyes widened as he pulled a small, white satin box out of his pocket. With a small smile at me, he opened the box. Inside was a sparkling diamond ring, surrounded with pearls and blue colored quartz.

"Erik," I said. "It's beautiful."

"It's yours," he said. "Christine Daae, I love you more than my own life, or anything that's ever been remotely precious to me. Will you marry me?"

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	19. How To Say Yes

**Ok, I got mixed reviews about the proposal, so here's a flashback chapter.**

**Melstrife- I'm glad you like my story! As in, I loooove all my readers to death. ALW was my sister's idea, and she's glad that so many people like the idea. "What did I do? Oh. COOOOOL! You're very welcome, Madi's readers. Possibly." Update has arrived!**

* * *

He proposed.

He actually proposed.

Oh. My. God.

"Well, what do you think?" I asked. "Yes, of course, you wonderful idiot!"

He smiled, the same smile that had haunted me for five months, the smile that now brought me joy instead of pain, kissing me with such joy and passion I knew I'd never be able to beat.

Five months without him… I hadn't the slightest idea how I managed to survive.

Oh. Right. I didn't.

_~Flashback~_

_It was another endless Monday, somewhere in the middle of November. Two months had passed without him. Andrew was at the Majestic, preparing for Phantom, and I was alone yet again. I was pacing, having nothing else to do._

_I hadn't slept for days. Weeks. I wanted to sleep, but I couldn't. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see his face. I just couldn't bear that sort of torment. It was too much, far too much. _

_So I dealt with the dark circles, now etched under my eyes, I made do with the torment the soft pillows on my bed put forth, I lived with feeling sluggish and empty. Empty, so very empty, without him. Useless. As if someone had carved a whole in my chest and threw away my heart. No, I'd left my heart on the fire escape outside my window in Paris, where I hoped a certain masked man would find it-_

_I shook my head. _Shut up_, I told myself. Thinking about him obviously didn't help anyone._

_I collapsed to the couch, my eyelids drooping in protest of my sleeplessness. Finally, I gave in, my head sinking into the pillows of the couch, my eyes closing. The first thing I saw was _him_, on the fire escape._

"_Come here, my love." I, of course, obeyed. He smiled, that genuine half smile-half smirk I adored. His arms wound around my waist, his head bent close to mine, our lips were nearly touching…_

_I sat upright on the couch, the tears already flowing freely. The nightmares would never leave me alone, not for a millisecond._

_I glanced at the clock. Thirty minutes had passed._

_I stood up, ignoring the protests of my groggy brain. I selected a Dr. Pepper from Andrew's refrigerator; my salvation in a can. After drinking nearly half of the soda in it, I flopped back onto the couch, turning on the TV._

_TV? Oh, right. I hated TV. Switching it off, I opened the door to the balcony, looking over the roofs of London. Something about this was familiar._

"_Go then!"_

_I collapsed on the cement floor of the balcony, sobbing hysterically. Those two words rang in my head, his voice sent shivers down my spine, begged me to go back to Paris, to him._

_You idiot! My mind shouted. Go back to Paris! He needs you! You need him! Do the math!_

_It had occurred to me a million times how much simply _leaving _had hurt him. He was already going bezerk at the fire escape, and let me tell you, neither of us had been keen on the idea of my departure._

_It had been necessary, though, for us. I'd needed to think, that's what I had told myself. But what I _really _had needed was to realize what I was without him, what he was without me. The answer: I was nothing, an empty, useless shell. _

'_A hollow corpse to match the face,' he'd once said. I felt the same; like a hollow corpse. _

_With that realization in mind, I came to a logic conclusion. As soon as Phantom premiered, I'd leave on a plane straight to Paris. No second thoughts there._

"_Erik… I love you…"_

_~End of Flashback~_

"Christine?" he asked. "Are you alright?"

I blinked. "Oh, yes, I'm fine," I said. "Just… never mind."

Erik frowned. "What's wrong? If you don't wish to marry me…"

"No, no!" I said quickly. "Erik, there's nothing I'd love more than to marry you. I was just… remembering…"

"Remembering?"

"Those months without you…"

"Ah…"

We were silent for a good long time, reveling in the past, present, and future; not exactly how I wanted to spend the rest of my night. With a sigh, I curled up next to him, resting my head on his chest. He smiled down at me, playing with a strand of my hair. I closed my eyes sleepily, falling into the first deep, dreamless sleep in a very long time.

* * *

**Ah, no point. You know the drill.**


	20. Explaining and Unnecessary Trepidation

I awoke the next morning at seven thirty, in virtually the same position, minus the fiancé. _Fiancé_… it sounded strange, for some reason. Even if it made me feel like the luckiest girl in the universe.

I stood from the bed faster than I would on any other day, anxious to find Erik. I peeked out the window to the fire escape. No one.

With a slight shrug, I headed for my bathroom. As soon as I laid a hand on the doorknob, a pair of arms wrapped around my waist. I gasped, much to his delight.

"You didn't think I'd leave after you'd made me the happiest man on earth, did you?" he asked, pressing his lips to my neck. I shuddered.

"N-no," I stammered, but not out of fear, out of pleasure. He chuckled, obviously pleased. His lips traveled across my jaw, until finally he turned me around in his grasp, his lips claiming mine.

I did nothing to fight him. Reason one: I was loving every minute of it. Reason two: I didn't have to anymore. We were going to be married- insert nervous/excited squeal here- so what's the point of stopping him?

He pulled away, much to my disappointment. Only then did I notice our rather precarious position. I was backed against the wall, his arms around my neck, my arms around his, one leg wrapped around his waist.

"I'd _love _to continue…" he purred into my ear, causing me to shudder. "But only if you're certain…"

I smirked at him. "Three… two… one…"

Aunt Marie knocked on the door.

With a sigh, I unwound my leg from around his waist. Erik shrugged, then seated himself on my bed.

My jaw dropped. "Oh, that's right, somehow you two know each other. Care to explain?"

"Christine?" she asked through the door. In an irritated undertone, she added, "Erik?"

I rolled my eyes, opening the door. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Erik.

"Hello again, Marie," Erik said casually.

"Somehow I knew I'd see you again," Aunt Marie said. "But I never imagined you falling in love with my daughter."

Erik smirked as my aunt spotted my engagement ring. She gasped, then glared at Erik.

"Care to explain?" she demanded.

"I love her," he said. "She loves me. Need I say more?"

"If you don't mind," I threw in, "I'd like to know how in the _world _you two know each other."

Erik smiled as I sat next to him, looking at the two of them expectantly. With a sigh, Aunt Marie pulled up a chair, sat down, and took a deep breath.

"Erik, you probably remember better than I do," she said.

Erik looked at me. "It was quite a while back, when I was eight or nine. Your aunt was a young ballerina, and I was with a traveling faire. Gypsies."

Aunt Marie nodded. "The faire had stopped in Paris for a while. I helped him escape from…" She took a deep breath. "You have no idea… what they did to him, because of his face… it wasn't right… they… they beat him, tormented him… it was terrible."

Aunt Marie looked sympathetically at Erik, who's face had turned into a hardened, emotionless mask. I took his hand, giving it a light squeeze.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

Erik nodded. "Yes, I'm fine."

I smiled a bit at him, then turned to look at Aunt Marie.

"I'll leave you two alone," she said finally, standing up and walking towards the door. "But if you even dare…"

I blushed at what her words implied. Erik, on the other hand, smirked devilishly, snaking one hand around my waist.

"No promises," he said.

With an exasperated, "Very mature, Erik," Aunt Marie left the room.

As soon as the door shut, I was laying down on my bed, Erik on top of me, smirking.

"It was about time she left," he whispered huskily, kissing across my jaw. "And you haven't answered my question yet…"

"Which one?" I managed.

Erik laughed. "Whether you wished to continue or not…"

I bit my lip. "To be honest, I don't know…"

Erik smiled, laying next to me, his arms still around me. "I don't mind waiting, amour."

I smiled a bit, kissing him lightly on the lips. He kissed me back, then pulled away, smirking. I frowned.

"Unless you'd like to continue where we left off," he said, his smirk growing. "Then I suggest we don't."

I pretended to be disappointed, pouting. To be honest, I'd expected him to say that. Still, it was fun to tease him.

Erik frowned, his hand gently stroking my cheek. "Christine…"

I looked up at him. "Yes?"

His lips pressed against my forehead. "I want you, remember?"

I smiled a bit. "I know."

He looked me in the eyes, his full of trepidation.

"If you have to leave, I'll understand," I told him.

He shook his head, tightening his arms around my waist. "I'm fine," he said.

"Really?" I asked. I kissed him passionately, locking my arms around his neck. In a matter of seconds, he was on top of me, trying desperately not to make any moves.

"No fair," he said, kissing me back.

"Don't complain," I said. "You're not always fair, either."

He rolled off of me again, smirking at me. "You seem ready to continue to me, tempting me like that," he said.

"Maybe I am," I said with a shrug, "Maybe I'm not. I might just like driving you crazy."

"You enjoy tempting me. That's pitiful."

I had to laugh. "Where have I heard that before?"

He laughed with me. "I do believe that you've said something similar before," he said.

I smiled at the memory of him kidnapping me. At the time, I wasn't very happy with him. Now? I'd love to go back to his sewer, if it meant that Aunt Marie wouldn't be watching our every move.

Aunt Marie… alright, one person knew about our engagement. How would Meg take it? Jo? _Raoul_?

I sighed, standing up. Erik followed me to the door.

"Where are we going?" he asked. I loved how he said 'we' instead of 'you'. It made me feel less alone, more… like I belonged. With him. Which I did.

I smirked. "Erik, have you met my sister?"

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**Well, what do you think? Too intimate? REVIEW!**


	21. Breaking The News

Erik smirked at me. "Only once," he said. "A long time ago. I do believe the two of you were fourteen. But I was too busy looking at you…"

I blushed, hiding my face under my hair. He'd met me at fourteen? That's four years, not two… I gasped mentally. So his struggle had taken longer than he'd let on.

"If you saw me when I was _fourteen_, you lied about waiting only two years," I said. "How long did you really?"

Erik pushed the screen of hair away, looking into my eyes with a weary expression.

"How long?" I repeated quietly.

He sighed. "Seven years."

I gasped, my eyes wide. "Seven years?"

I was astonished. He'd waited so long to not only gain the courage to talk to me, but to learn every possible detail _about _me. Almost a year ago, the fact that he knew so much scared the hell out of me. Now, it was understandable. He loved me.

Erik smiled weakly. "Not so surprising, is it?" **(JACK SPARROW MOMENT!)**

"No," I said. "I just wish you'd told me that sooner."

"So do I," he said. "But you know now."

I nodded, kissing him quickly before opening the door to the bathroom. "I'll be right back. Just let me change."

With a positively wicked smirk, he walked up to me, resting a hand on my cheek. "And is there a reason why you must leave the room to change?"

I blushed a deep maroon, my eyes widening. "Erik!"

He laughed, kissing me roughly. I kissed him back, of course, but pulled away.

"Like I said, I'll be right back." I laughed at his disappointment, shutting the door. Moving quickly, I changed into jeans, a light blue t-shirt, threw on some makeup (not literally), and tied my Converse before finally exiting the bathroom. I looked around suspiciously, wondering where my fiancé had disappeared to.

"Right here, amour," he said, sliding his arms around my waist. I smiled, turning to face him. Before he could kiss me again, I reached for the doorknob, opening my bedroom door and walking into the hallway. I looked back at him expectantly. He hesitated, but followed me nonetheless.

"Don't worry," I said. "I'm as nervous as you are."

He smiled. "What makes you think I'm nervous? It doesn't matter what they think, I'm going to marry you whether they approve of it or not."

I reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it nervously. His smile grew, and soon we were heading down do the kitchen.

Luckily, the first to spot us was Aunt Marie. She frowned disapprovingly, but did nothing to stop our descent. I was confused. Why was she so against Erik?

After making a mental note to ask her that question later, I froze, meeting Meg's surprised gaze.

"Um…" Meg stopped, confused. "Christine?"

I sighed. "Meg, this is Erik. He's my…" I paused, looking at him. He smirked. Looking back at Meg, I finished. "Fiancé."

Meg was silent for a moment. Then her great marriage-without-consulting-your-own-sister spiel.

"First of all, he's the boyfriend Mom was talking about, right? So you first don't tell me you had a boyfriend at all. Then you keep your engagement secret from me? I mean, come on! I'm your _sister_, for God's sakes! You have to tell me these things! I mean, these weddings take time, you know! I mean, there's the dress, the tuxes, the bridesmaids gowns, the location, the flowers, the reception, the cake- oh, _no_. You are _not _getting out of letting me plan your wedding! Not after you didn't tell me you were getting married, or that you had a boyfriend, or that you were even in love! That's what you get. You'll have to deal with it."

With a smile of satisfaction, Meg skipped away. I looked at Erik.

"I knew it," I said with a sigh. "We're doomed."

Erik smiled. "Relax. It won't be all that bad to let her plan. Except for the dress… I already have one."

I gave him a curious look. "You do?"

He nodded. "I'll show you later. Right now, we might want to tell the news to the rest of your family."

I nodded. Jo and Raoul would be easier to break it to; it was Meg that I had been scared of.

Raoul was pretty lenient about it, curious about the mask and all, but lenient all the same. He, being my friend, questioned Erik a bit, but in the end was perfectly fine with the engagement.

Jo, on the other hand, was a bit skeptical. He was fine with it, but wasn't too sure about whether he liked Erik or not. The mask, the sudden proposal, hardly-knowing-the-guy, the whole bit. But, as Erik said, it didn't matter whether they approved or not. I was going to marry him anyways.

After breakfast that morning, Erik and I drove to the opera house in the black Lamborghini Murciélago LP640 that I never knew he had. The man was constantly surprising me.

The entire trip down to his home, Erik never took his eyes off me. It was a mix of joy, love, and hunger, that filled his expression. Joy at our engagement, love for the obvious, hunger for me. What else was new?

As soon as we stepped into his lair/home (I hadn't decided what to call it yet), I looked him in the eyes. He held my gaze for such a long moment, his beautiful green eyes hypnotizing me. "You just want to melt me with those eyes, don't you?"

He smirked, only intensifying his magical stare. "It's a possibility."

"It's working…"

He moved closer, brushing his hand against my cheek. "Do you even realize… your entire being has the same effect on me."

I raised an eyebrow. "It does?"

"Does it honestly surprise you?" he asked. "I love you, want- no, _need_- you, and everything about you… well, it doesn't necessarily help, now does it?"

I frowned a bit. "I-I don't know… if I'm necessarily ready to go that far yet…" I looked away, feeling stupid. I'd acted like I had been, teasing him, feeding that desire he held. And now I wasn't sure I was ready for that. It was pathetic of me.

He turned my head back towards his with one hand. "I understand. And I'll wait for however long I have to."

I smiled a bit, thankful.

"I can still kiss you, right?" I asked, smirking.

"I'd never be able to live without _that _for long," he said with a laugh, "so the answer is yes."

My smirk grew as I kissed him softly. I allowed him to deepen the kiss, but as soon as he became demanding, he pulled away.

Erik grinned sheepishly. "Forgive me, amour- you're hard to resist."

I smiled a bit, still amazed that he'd gone to the trouble to stop himself.

_Get used to it, _I thought. _He loves you, stupid._

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**What do you think? REVIEW!**


	22. Fateful Ends

**I'm positive that all my readers will absolutely hate me after this. Even you. EG.**

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You know when everything's absolutely perfect one minute, and the next minute you're perfect little life is down the tubes?

That was me the day after I told my family the news.

Erik and I had spent the night at the opera house. Let's just say… I'm not going to get into the gory details. That's for another time… possibly.

In any event, the next morning, I woke up in the bird bed, a slight ache in between my legs. Remember, no gory details. This story's still rated T, and I intend to keep it that way. And for those wondering why I was flipping out about doing that one minute and totally fine with it the next, let me just say this. How many of you would be able to resist someone as… _amazing_… as Erik?

That's what I thought.

On the chair next to the bed was an old fashioned dressing gown, made of lace, with small pink roses on the collar. With a smile, I slipped into the skirt, which had a prominent slit all the way up to my right thigh, the bodice and corset, and finally the actual dressing gown. I didn't bother tying it together, letting it barely cling to my skin.

Luckily, Erik was in his study as I'd hoped. He was working on a drawing, but of what I didn't know. I snuck up behind the desk, hoping to surprise him. Of course, as we all know, Erik isn't surprised easily. He smirked, turning to face me. His eyes swept over the scanty dressing gown, and as he returned my gaze, I saw the desire, the _love_, in his eyes.

But he didn't return my gaze for long. He looked at the door, his eyes widening slightly.

"Christine," he said. "Come with me."

Before I could finish, he took my hand, opening a nearly invisible door in the study. He closed the door behind us, locking it, then looked at me. It was considerably dark in there, a small, four poster bed was off to the side, a few chairs were backed against the wall.

"You lied," I said. "You said there was only one bed." I gestured to the four poster bed.

He smirked a bit. "Maybe a bit. But I don't suppose you have anything against sharing a bed _now_, do you?"

I shook my head. "How could I?"

He smiled, then looked at the door. "We don't have much time," he said. "I thought you'd like a moment for just us before…" He didn't finish his sentence.

I frowned, looking him in the eyes. "What's wrong?"

He ignored my question. With a sigh, he sat on the bed. "Christine…"

I sat next to him, worried. "What is it?"

"I love you," he said. "Whatever happens… don't forget that."

I started to panic. "What's going on?"

He gave up. "Your… friend… Jo… he called the police and told them that I was the Opera Ghost. Apparently he got suspicious of the mask, and us going to the opera house. They didn't believe him at first, but after they linked several deaths to the opera house, they began their search for me. Few policemen survived my traps, but those remaining, five, I believe… they're on their way now."

"How could he?" I managed, tears streaming down my cheeks. A knot formed in my throat. "They can't take you from me…"

He grimaced. "They can, and they will. And even if I finish these policemen, they'll send more."

"Aren't you optimistic," I muttered with bitter sarcasm, but my heart wasn't in it. "After all we've been through…"

He placed a hand on my cheek. "We have now."

"And only now," I complained. "It's just not right…"

He sighed. "I love you…"

I swallowed my tears. "I love you, too…"

He kissed me gently, and the tears fell. I just couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that in only a matter of minutes, we'd be parted forever. They couldn't. They just couldn't.

Almost immediately, I heard the voices. "In here, Scott!"

I sighed. "So this is it…"

He frowned, kissing me again. "This is it…"

I kissed him back desperately, scared out of my wits of losing him. He was my lifeline here. If I could barely live five months without him, what about the rest of my life?

Someone banged on the door. He pulled away, regret filling his eyes.

"Erik…" I mouthed.

The door was knocked down.

"There he is!" one of the policemen shouted, grabbing Erik's arm. Another policeman handcuffed him.

"No!" I shrieked. "He didn't do anything!"

"Oh, really?" one of them asked. "Explain the deaths. And the traps."

I grimaced. "Who knows? This place has been around for ages, and according to Gaston Leroux, the Phantom wears a mask over his entire face, not just half."

The policeman sighed. "We're going off of _facts_, miss, not books and musicals."

"Then explain why you think he's the phantom!"

"The mask, living underneath the opera, having traps to keep intruders out, it all fits," another said.

"So you _are _basing it off books and musicals."

"Look, miss, if you can find the murderer of the five men that died underneath the opera house, kindly let us know. Until then, your friend here is sentenced to life in prison. If he escapes-" here he shot a look at me, "-then he'll be sentenced to death."

"No!" I yelled as they dragged him out of the lair- _now _I choose to find a name for the place- with me, standing on the shore, helpless. He looked back at me solemnly, the love still in his eyes.

"I'll always love you," he mouthed.

"I love you, too," I mouthed back. "Forever."

They disappeared.

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**Never fear! I won't leave you hanging- for long, that is. Epilogue up next!**


	23. Epilogue

Fifteen years had passed since they took him away.

Life, for the most part, aside from the ache where my heart should be, was alright. Forced by Meg, and at Aunt Marie's urging, I went to college, and now I teach the chorus class at a local junior high. My classroom is a big, huge reminder of him; I have Phantom of the Opera posters _everywhere_. Every year, someone sings a song from my godfather's musical, or it's sequel, Love Never Dies, which reminds me even more of him, for solo projects in the class. One year, a group of three performed The Final Lair, and ever since, that last line has haunted me to no end.

_It's over now, the music of the night!_

How incredibly correct can song lyrics get? This fit our lives perfectly. We'd never see each other again, never kiss, hug, tell each other how much we love, _need_,the other. It was frightening how true the words that boy sang were.

_It's over now, the music of the night!_

It was fifth hour on a Friday. Next hour, for the eighth graders, was lunch, and we were _all _anxious to get class over with. Sixth hour I had off for lunch, and seventh hour was my prep hour, which was simply luck. Good luck. I hadn't had a spot of good luck for years.

My girl's choir was practicing an aria from Hannibal; you can see that they love Phantom as much as I do. One of my favorite students, Claire, gasped. I stopped the music, the slightest bit annoyed.

"What is it?" I asked her.

Claire didn't answer, instead running over to the door. She came back with a bouquet of roses, handing it to me. A tiny note in between them read, in the neatest script I'd seen,

_Remember?_

"Who's it from?" another student, Lily, asked.

"It doesn't say," I said.

"Miss Daae!" Claire said, jumping up and down. "Look up the language of flowers! It will translate whatever they're trying to say."

I raised an eyebrow. "Language of flowers?"

Claire nodded, rushing over to one of the computers in the corner, my Macbook. "May I?"

I nodded, following the girl. The rest of the class, only eight other girls, followed as well.

Claire went straight to Google, searching 'the language of flowers'. She clicked on the Wikipedia article, scrolling down to 'Roses'. She handed me the Macbook.

"Tell us what it means!" another student, Jenna, said excitedly.

I shook my head. "You guys need to practice."

After several groans of protest, the girls went back to their places and sang for each other in partners. This class never ceased to amaze me.

I scanned the list. In the bouquet, all spaced out evenly, so they were signified as separate meanings, were a white rose, an orange rose, a red rose, and a violet rose, all thornless.

Red meant true love. My eyes widened a bit. Could it be…?

I read on. White meant eternal love. Violet meant love at first sight.

I gasped. Orange meant desire.

_It's over now, the music of the night!_

How was it possible? He was in jail, for crying out loud!

I glanced at the clock- eight minutes to the bell. I sighed thankfully.

The door opened slightly, much to our surprise.

"Yes?" I asked.

The door opened all the way. In walked Erik, of all people.

I stared at him, my expression a mix of surprise and joy.

Erik was back. _My _Erik.

"You know what?" I said, turning to my students. "Go ahead to lunch."

The girls smiled knowingly at me, grabbing their backpacks and rushing out the door.

"Have a good weekend!" I called. "And thank you, Claire."

Claire beamed. "You have a good weekend, too, Miss Daae."

"I will," I said, turning back to Erik as the door closed.

"How did you…?"

He smiled. "A good friend of mine, Nadir Khan, recently joined the police force in Paris. He somehow convinced the rest of them that I was innocent, and Nadir is very persuasive. I was only let out a few days ago."

"And how did you find me?" I asked.

"It was simple," he said. "Your aunt told me. She still doesn't like me much, though."

I shook my head. "I don't care."

I ran over to him, hugging him desperately. He hugged me back, just as desperate as I.

"Christine…" he murmured. "I love you more than life itself…"

I smiled at him. "I love you too, Robin Hood."

Erik smiled a bit. "I never thought I'd see you again… I couldn't think of a single reason to continue living in that cell." His smile faded.

"For me," I said softly. "If I heard the news that you'd died, I'd die with you."

"Well then it's your lucky day," he said. "We're both alive."

I smiled. "I can live with that."

With a replying smile, Erik bent his head down toward mine, kissing me again.

My personal heaven on earth.

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**OK, I've been very sidetracked with Gerard Butler's extreme HOTNESS in _Dracula 2000_ lately, so that explains the short epilogue.**

**A big, huge, ginormous thank you to ALL my reviewers, who kept me motivated. If it weren't for you guys, I would've given up on this story.**

**See y'all next time!**

**~QM~**


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